[Part 1]
Day 3
I woke the next morning from the sunshine in my eyes. My head was resting ever so slightly on Eli's arm as we had both fallen asleep on my bed after I begged him to stay. I blanched in horror at the drool stain I had left on the arm of his white t-shirt.
I began to slowly move myself and retreat downstairs as the memories of the night before came flooding back. How I had broken, screaming in terror, and how Eli had saved me, not knowing the true reason he found me curled up on the floor crying.
As I stepped off the bed, my leg got snagged in the frilly bed cover, and I went crashing to the ground, making quite the noise as I landed. With a yawn, Eli's eyes opened, and I felt myself blushing as he turned to look at me.
We both kind of stared at each other for a moment, not speaking. Eli opened his mouth, then closed it again as if unsure of what to say.
"Coffee?" I asked quickly, filling the awkwardness of our situation.
"Please," Eli said, smiling.
In minutes, I had a pot brewing as I leaned against the kitchen counter. Eli was picking up the scattered photographs from the floor and looking at them quizzically.
"Why do you have pictures of the Harmons?" Eli asked, showing me the photos of the yellow-haired man and his family.
"Is that their names? I found them out in the barn under a blanket," I answered as I rooted around the cupboards for two mugs.
"In the barn? I cleaned it out just last week. No way I would have missed this trunk," Eli said while examining the wooden trunk with its simple rustic hinges. It was plain and unadorned with any embellishments. Basic as basic could be.
"Well, you must have missed it because it was there," I said, putting emphasis on the "was" in a way that reminded me of my mother chastising my father.
"That's so weird," he said, shifting through the photos while sitting at the table. I brought him a cup of coffee and sugar, and he began absentmindedly adding a lot of sugar to his coffee. About six scoops later, he began stirring and sipping it.
"Well, anyways, thanks for coming last night. I wasn't myself, I hope you know that I'm not some damsel in distress," I said quickly, like word vomit, and I even chuckled at the end, feeling like a total weirdo.
"What happened anyway? You didn't say last night," he said, putting the photos down in a jumble on the table.
I paused for a moment, considering how to answer. As I sipped my coffee, I stared out into the yard beside the barn where the scarecrow stood, glancing around the edge of the barn, hanging limply in his hole. His appearance once again sad and dejected instead of murderous and terrifying.
"I was just scared, I had a nightmare, and it just scared me," I said dumbly, trying not to turn crimson again under his intense gaze.
His eyes seemed to cut right through my lie, as if he were staring directly into my being before he simply glanced away out the window. We fell silent again, and I filled some moments by sipping my drink. It seemed to revitalize me; the sun and the company made me feel secure.
"Why were you here anyways?" I asked after a moment.
"I heard screaming, so I came running. I live just on the other side of the grass there, behind the barn," Eli said, pointing to the barn out the window.
"Must be really close, I didn't see any houses on the way in," I said, prying deeper into the situation.
"It's actually a trailer, maybe like two hundred yards from here. I was outside getting some air when I heard you scream. So, I came running," Eli said, finishing his cup of coffee and placing it in between us like a barrier, as if he was hiding something.
"Could you, uh, not do that?" Eli asked, with an uncertain grin on his face.
"What am I doing exactly?" I asked, startled for a moment, my stomach doing a sort of flip.
"It's just that you like stare at people. You've been staring at me for like my whole cup of coffee, I don't think you blinked the whole time," Eli said, averting his eyes shyly.
"No, I don't," I said until I realized he was right. I never noticed that about myself.
"Right, well, I've got to go. I am probably going to start painting today, so you might see me in a bit," Eli said, rising and heading to the door.
"Wait," I said, grabbing his arm for only a moment before releasing it like it was scalding hot.
Eli glanced at my hand for a moment, then at his arm, before he, too, blushed crimson.
"I just wanted to say thank you again. For last night, I mean. Well, what I mean is I appreciate it," I said, my eyes downcast in, for some reason, shame. Like he had seen me at my weakest and it weighed on my gaze appropriately.
"It was nothing, besides I didn't get much sleep with your constant snoring," Eli said, laughing at me.
"I so don't snore," I said, swatting at him but unable to control a smile creeping up onto my face.
After Eli left, I felt instantly colder, my eyes kept returning to the scarecrow. I grabbed my camera from upstairs and went out to the yard. I scanned the dirt for anything out of the ordinary. There was no blood, or anything on the dirt where the scarecrow stood just last night. I slowly made my way to the scarecrow, but nothing happened. I snapped a photo of the inanimate object, and it didn't even flinch. I poked it, but all I felt was straw underneath its clothes. I removed its mask, expecting a severed head, but it was just straw. Nothing was here but straw. I dropped the mask on the ground and took another photo proving it was just straw and nothing else.
An idea struck me as I regarded the source of my torment. If I planned to stay even one more night here, I needed to do something about this scarecrow. I rooted around in the barn, a series of tools hung from nails in the wall. On one hung what I was searching for. An old rusted shovel with a dirty wooden handle that was worn smooth from use.
I returned to the side of the barn beside the scarecrow, knowing for whatever reason this thing only came when night fell and didn't react at all when I moved or touched it during the day.
Before my morning coffee had even settled, I began to dig at the dusty earth, loose and easy to dig, it came away in shovelfuls. Within an hour, I had a fair-sized hole in front of me. Sweat dripped from my brow, and when I wiped under my eyes, they came away black from last night's makeup. Glancing at the field of grass and knowing Eli could appear at any time, I decided to head inside and shower. The hot water was a godsend, and I lingered for longer, letting the water drain down my head and back, my eyes closed, trying to forget the images from the last two nights. I should just pack up my car and leave right this minute. But how could I explain this to my family? I decided to go through with my plan and bury the scarecrow. I could last one more night if I prepared for it.
I left the shower and dressed modestly, in another one of my old rock t-shirts and a pair of shorts. I returned to the yard and with a satisfying push, I dropped the scarecrow into the pit. It fell with a nice thud, and I smiled at my power over it in the day; it's just at night when I should fear it.
As I threw the first shovel of dirt back on top, I heard a noise in the grass, and it parted, revealing Eli wearing the same pair of jeans and work boots, but he had changed his shirt to a plain black one. In each hand, he held cans of paint and a brush.
"Should I even ask why you are burying that old scarecrow?" He asked as he came to stand beside me.
"Probably best if you didn't," I admitted, leaning on the shovel.
"Well, I'm going to anyway. Polly, why are you burying that old scarecrow?" He asked, a rare smile coming to his face.
"Because it's been haunting me at night," I said bluntly.
"Mhm, yeah, okay. Fine, don't tell me. I've been meaning to get rid of it anyway, but normal people take things to the landfill," Eli said with a smirk as he turned to the house and began setting up for his painting.
I finished burying the scarecrow and stomped the dirt down flat. I finished my job by moving my car and parking it directly over top of the spot where I buried it.
Eli watched me curiously but didn't remark. I returned the shovel to the barn and went out into the yard. I decided to go for a hike around the property. I needed some time alone to think and unwind.
As I made my way through the grass, it began to confuse me. This had obviously been a large farmland, but how had the wild plants grown in such a thick, endless maze of greenery?
It gave me an eerie feeling, like I was being watched as the grass covered three-quarters of my body, like there would be something lurking out in the grass, crouched low, waiting for me.
After a half-hour or so, I came upon a clear lake, only big enough to be considered an old swimming hole, I thought as I dipped my hand into the cool water.
I took off my outer clothes and decided to go for a swim. I lowered myself in slowly and reveled at the cool water. The pond wasn't deep, but the water was clean. A small rope swing had been hung from a large oak tree that bordered the pond. It also provided a nice layer of shade that made it the ideal spot to spend the day. I floated on my back in the water for what seemed like hours. The day seemed to slip away from me. A small beach of sand sat at one side of the pond, so I lay out in the sun and closed my eyes. The warm day warmed my soul, and soon I felt myself drifting off into sleep.
I awoke to the sound of crickets and darkness. I couldn't believe it. I had slept through the day; the long nights had finally caught up to me, and now I was stuck far away from the farmhouse. I didn't know if my plan with the scarecrow had worked, and this wasn't the place to test my theory.
A full moon lay overhead, casting a silvery glow on the world before me. A sea of grass swayed gently in the wind, sending shivers down it in shuddering waves. I looked around, but I was thankfully alone, just the crickets chirping along melodically as my only companions.
I had to make it back to the house, so I started on my way, my hands trailing along the tall grass. The pale light played easily on the deep green grass. Step by step, I made my way back towards the farmhouse and the barn, throwing caution to the wind, and I started to jog along, anything to get back faster. I would have to find Eli; maybe if we were together, he could stop it like before.
If I thought the field was creepy during the day, by night, it was a whole new world. Every sound made my heart stop for a beat before restarting in protest. When all of a sudden, the crickets stopped chirping. I dropped to my knees, letting the long grass cover me from sight. Through the strands, I could make out a shape moving slowly through the tall grass, the swish of the plants as it made its passage through them. My heart dropped. Was this Eli looking for me, or was it the scarecrow come for me?
That's when I heard a voice, a voice cutting through the silence. It started off quiet and raspy as it sang an eerie children's song.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me?
Run and hide, don't you know that I seek
The world it claims that I be not clean
When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see
Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep.
In this world, at night I shall be free.
Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see.
When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
I was frozen to the spot. It hadn't found me, but it knew I was in the grass somewhere. Now, with each word, chewed up and spat out like it was unhappy with it, now it was accompanied by the whistle of something in the air and a slicing sound as it cut through the grass around me.
It finished another round of its song, but now it stood within feet of me, its blade whistling as it cut. I took a moment to ready myself, and as it raised its blade to cut through the grass I hid in, I dashed out of my hiding spot and slammed into it. But nothing resisted me; I fell through it like it was a ghost.
In a tangle of limbs, I landed hard on the ground and tried quickly rolling to my feet. The blade of its weapon pierced the earth beside me. Now I could see it was a two-handed scythe the scarecrow carried, but something was off, its hands were human. Pale milky skin like a newborn baby. I had little time to examine the creature except for the canvas bag over its head. Two large black eyes came out of the slits that leaked a dark red blood like tears.
It screeched loudly and swung its scythe, but it was slow, and I took off through the grass in the direction of what I hoped was the farmhouse.
I completely gave up all pretense of hiding and sprinted as fast as I could without looking back. The grass seemed to part for me as I ran in terror. I was just glad that in high school, I had taken track as it was paying off now.
I could hear the noise of footsteps behind me, but I never turned. I ran and ran until my lungs felt like they were going to burst Something silver flashed to my left, and I tripped over something hard and unexpected. The wind was driven from my lungs as my chin slammed hard into the earth. I scrambled back, trying to escape, but the scarecrow was on me, its blade flashing angrily in the pale moonlight.
I wanted to move, I wanted to fight, but my body was weak and unable to catch its breath, and I lay there helpless as it swung its scythe towards me. I closed my eyes in fear, but I only heard the thud of dirt before I opened my eyes. The scythe was discarded, and the scarecrow stood staring at me.
It seemed to be struggling with something, one hand reached out towards me only to be snapped back to its side. A roar of rage pierced the canvas sack over its head as it struggled against its invisible bonds. For a moment, I thought I saw something behind it, three sets of hands holding it back. One feminine in nature, and the other two must have belonged to children. In a flash, I saw a beautiful woman who looked vaguely familiar with her long brown hair and plain dress.
"Run," she moaned as the scarecrow swung around wildly.
I didn't hesitate and fled, my breath had returned, and while my body still ached from my fall, I powered on, knowing this was the only respite I would receive tonight.
In the distance, I could see a small sheet metal shape; Eli's trailer was slowly coming closer as I ran, and I beelined it for the trailer. I could hear the footsteps behind me again as the scarecrow resumed its chase after me.
I reached the old trailer and banged on the door as loud as I could; I rattled the handle, but it was locked.
"Eli, it's me. It's Polly, please let me in. Please," I begged as I banged over and over again on the door of his trailer.
Nothing responded to me, and the trailer was dark. The single window in the back held no life inside the trailer. From the trailer, I couldn't tell which direction the farmhouse was in the dark, so I fled into the tall grass and crouched low, watching the clearing around the trailer.
While I caught my breath, I watched the scarecrow enter the clearing, its scythe back in its hand as it circled the trailer. When its raspy voice began singing again low and quiet, only loud enough for me to hear.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me?
Run and hide, don't you know that I seek
The world it claims that I be not clean
When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see
Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep.
In this world, at night, I shall be free.
Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see.
When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
The song made me shiver uncontrollably at the lyrics and the voice; it sounded demented like a crazy person letting their demons out into a nursery rhyme.
I lay perfectly still; for some reason, it couldn't find me. This creature I assumed was all-knowing seemed to have some very human weaknesses. It moved and talked like a human, even had certain body parts that were from a human; it even felt human the way it chased and reacted.
The scarecrow moved on through the tall grass, and I let out a sigh of relief as it lost my trail. How terrifying that beast was. In my pocket was the keys to my car. Eli had told me that the farmhouse was fairly close to his trailer. I had to navigate to the car, then drive as fast as I can away from this place. The fact that I hadn't left already because I was worried about money was insane. Who cares, I could drive to Barb's and demand my money back. Go home and just tell my parents the truth. The whole reason for actually leaving home this summer, why I was actually here in this field shivering uncontrollably in fear. But I couldn't think about that now, not now, there will be time to deal with that later. Now I needed to focus on staying alive, getting to the car, and getting out of here.
I went in the direction the scarecrow had; he knew the land better than I did, and every noise I made in the silence of the night made my heart drop. It took all my courage there and then to take one step forward, then another. I felt like I was going to be sick; my stomach was in knots to where it felt like even if I was sick, the only thing to come out would be only bile and stomach acid.
With each careful step, I made my way closer to the farmhouse and the scarecrow. Through the darkness, I could see my goal, the farmhouse, and the barn. Within minutes, I had made it securely to the farmhouse yard.
My car still sat in the same spot overtop of the hole where I buried the scarecrow. In the moonlight, I could see that the dirt had not been disturbed.
The scarecrow was nowhere to be seen, and I cautiously made my way to my car, my keys in my hand as I approached the driver's door. I hadn't locked the car, and it opened on the first try. I turned on my car as quietly as I could, but nothing could have prepared me for what happened next.
Something landed heavily on top of the roof of my car, making it dent inwards slightly. With horror, I saw the scarecrow swing its scythe into the back window of my car. With a crash, the glass shattered inwards; I put my car into gear and roared away down the lane. In my rearview mirror, I couldn't see anything, so I swerved back and forth, trying to shake the creature from the roof of my car when the scythe crashed in through the front window, making a hole just large enough for it.
The glass spidered, and I couldn't see out the window very well. I swerved down the road, but the scythe remained in the car, allowing the creature purchase. In a panic, I spun my wheel wildly, trying to dislodge it, but I lost control, and soon felt something crash into the front of my car. The airbag went off in my face, and I hadn't been wearing my seatbelt. I slammed hard into something else, and my vision went dark. I was in a daze; I must have passed out because I don't remember a lot of what happened next. I felt the car door open with a crunching tear, and it landed loudly as it was torn off. My body being grabbed and tossed on the ground. I felt no pain, just a gentle numbness. I felt blood on my head as I raised my arm to touch my face.
Then just blackness, complete, and empty just feelings, fear, unease, sadness. My eyes opened, and the scarecrow was overtop of me. Pain on my chest and my vision went dark again. Coughing as something poured down my throat. I couldn't breathe, why couldn't I breathe?
My eyes opened one last time, and I saw the scarecrow pouring a dark liquid from its mouth directly into my mouth and eyes. My vision was red and bloody before I closed them one last time.
The words of its song echoed into the emptiness of my thoughts.
"Did you, did you, did you come for me?
Run and hide, don't you know that I seek?
The world it claims that I be not clean.
When I come, you'll see how filthy I can be.
Tonight, it is happening, tonight you'll see,
Beneath the moon, my shadows they do creep.
In this world, at night, I shall be free.
Tonight it's happening, tonight you'll see.
When I come, you had better flee, or else I'll come and give my filth to thee."
The darkness enveloped me, and I felt myself slipping away, the sounds of the night fading into oblivion.
Day 4
When I awoke, it was morning, and I found myself lying in a hospital bed. My head throbbed with pain, and my body ached all over. The memories of the terrifying night flooded back to me, and I shuddered involuntarily.
A nurse entered the room, her kind eyes filled with concern. "You're awake," she said softly, her voice gentle like a soothing balm. "You're lucky to be alive. You were found unconscious by the side of the road next to your car. Do you remember what happened?"
I tried to speak, but my throat felt raw and dry. I croaked out a few words, barely audible. "The scarecrow... it attacked me..."
The nurse frowned, her brows furrowing in confusion. "Scarecrow? What scarecrow?"
My heart raced with panic as I realized the truth. Had it all been a nightmare? But the pain in my body felt too real, the memories too vivid to be mere hallucinations.
I tried to explain, to tell her about the terrifying creature that had pursued me through the night, but she only looked at me with concern, as if I were delusional.
"I'll get the doctor, and there is a young man who brought you in. He has been here all morning," the nurse said with a sly wink.
After a few minutes, she came back with Eli and a doctor, both of whom smiled gently at me through the window. The doctor came in first and went over my health with me. I had a concussion and bruises all over my body. A generous-sized cut from some glass on my scalp had been stitched and bandaged. My mind flashed back to the night before. How the scarecrow had filled me with its gooey red blood.
"Did you find anything else?" I asked cautiously, trying to avoid another scandal like with the nurse.
"No, as long as you have someone to pick you up and take you home, you are free to go. That nice young man out there said he would take you back home," the doctor said, pointing to Eli as he rose with a slight grunt.
I glanced at Eli, and he waved uncertainly at me. The doctor went out and began talking to Eli for a few minutes.
While I waited, my mind began to have strange thoughts. Something was wrong; I felt weird. My vision turned red, and I began to see images before my eyes.
The Harmons. They flashed before my eyes in real-time—the husband hugging his wife, then swinging his kids around, chopping wood outback next to the barn while his wife cooked in the kitchen.
As Eli entered the room, the visions stopped suddenly. Like my saving angel for the third time now, I was extremely grateful to Eli.
"Heyyyyy," Eli said, elongating the word in a sort of familiar yet awkward way.
"Hi," I said, closing my eyes and letting my embarrassment pass in only a few seconds.
"Why is it that fifty percent of the times we meet, you're in serious trouble?" Eli asked, coming to sit on the edge of my bed.
"Oh, you know me, bad luck, I guess," I said simply, becoming aware that under my blankets, I was in a backless hospital gown, and he was inches away from me.
I pulled the blanket up to my chin as a sort of cover for my appearance, but Eli didn't seem to notice. He continued talking to me. It was actually really sweet the way he seemed to care for me.
"Anyways, the doctor said I could take you back to the farmhouse to rest," Eli said.
"No," I said suddenly, becoming serious.
"What? Why not?" Eli asked.
"I just, I just can't right now. I'll tell you later. Just, we can't spend the night anywhere near the farm," I said, grabbing him by the arm, hoping to sway him.
"Well, I mean, if you want, we can grab your stuff, and my house can literally go anywhere," Eli said in an offhand manner, as if he had expected this.
"Promise?" I asked, trying not to seem too afraid.
Within the hour, we had returned to the farmhouse. The hole I dug was still covered over, and I stared at it as we parked in Eli's black pickup truck.
I ran inside and quickly got changed into my only clean clothes, grabbing everything I had from the farmhouse. I paused at the dinner table, looking down at the photographs of the Harmons and thinking back to that weird moment in the hospital with that odd vision.
The day was getting longer, and I hurried back to Eli, waiting in the pickup truck. I threw my bag in the back and climbed in beside him. He smiled and backtracked down the lane. We turned to the left and went down a side road where we came upon my poor old car. It had crashed directly into a tree, and the whole front part of the car had been destroyed. Fluid leaked all over the road, and I almost shed a tear for my departed friend. We had traveled far together. I grabbed a few things from the car, but something was off about the car. The front door had been knocked off and was discarded on the far side of the road. It looked impossible; the door hadn't even hit the tree.
Eli hooked his truck up to his trailer, and we sped off, leaving the property behind us. We headed into town and found a pullout on the side of the road with a set of bathrooms to camp at for the night. Eli's trailer was messy but cozy. He had laundry strewn over most surfaces, but it didn't smell bad.
The room consisted of a small kitchen with a bed in one corner. There were also a lot of posters and artwork on the walls. I examined one of a pretty girl with long raven-black hair. It was a realist painting, obviously taken from real life.
"Who is this?" I asked as Eli made us some food.
"That is just a friend," Eli said, glancing at the painting he had done.
"Well, she is a pretty friend," I said, enjoying watching the back of his ears turn bright red.
"Dinner's ready," he said, pouring the mixture of food he had made onto a pair of plates.
Eli served me and handed me a can of Coke to drink. I thanked him and sat on his bed. It was the only serviceable piece of furniture in the whole trailer. We both sat in silence for a moment while we ate. I could tell something was bothering Eli as he kept making glances toward me.
"What? What is it, Eli? Just say it," I said between bites.
"Tell me what happened, Polly. Tell me why you were burying the scarecrow, why you were passed out in the road with straw in your hair. Tell me why you were muttering about the Harmons and a scarecrow when I found you," Eli said suddenly, as if he were unloading a machine gun.
I looked Eli square in the face and relented. I told him about the last couple of nights at the farmhouse, about how the scarecrow had been tormenting me every night. About how he had saved me and how last night I had fled through the fields to his trailer and then to my car. I told him about the vision I had about the Harmons in the hospital. By the end of it, I was in tears. I felt so foolish and childish.
Eli took it in stride. He asked a few questions during my retelling, but by the end of it, he was silent. Tears fell down my face and landed in my lap. We had both put our plates on the counter, and Eli hugged me. He put his arms around me, and I nuzzled into his shoulder, feeling comforted again in him at the lowest points of my life.
With a gentle hand, he wiped away my tears, and I smiled, letting a nervous laugh escape my lips. I looked up into his face and felt his stare before I saw it. His pale blue eyes shone with comfort, and then his lips were on mine as he kissed me quickly before pulling away slightly.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. That was insensitive of me. You're sad, and I took advantage of that," Eli said, moving back slightly.
"Shut up," I said, and grabbed his shirt, bringing him back in.

Unless you are ready to handle the reaper cushions.

The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.
― Mark Twain

general information	additional information
name: Micah Di Santis	preferred name: Myka, Mike
d.o.b.: 10 June 20XX	age: 16
nationality: Sicilian	hometown: Sicily, Italy
gender identity: cis-male	gender expression: male
sexual orientation: Undecided	preferred pronouns: he / him / his

• Half-blood- and non-half-blood-related conundrums: ADHD (attention deficiency and hyperactivity disorder), Dyslexia

relation	name/s	age	relationship
divine parent	Charon, The Ferryman	old	Micah still has no idea what to think about his dad. Speaking with him during the visit to Olympus did nothing to clear things up. The man, or was it immortal, was blunt and yet, his son's opinion of him was still up in the air, though leaning more to the positive side. At least Micah has the connections to get himself an admittedly fantastic tailored suit.
mortal parent	???	???	Micah has no idea who his biological mother is. The only reason he knew who his father was before he came to camp was because the spirits told him.
mortal adoptive parent	Maria Di Santis	32 years old	If Marco was a saint then Maria was a saintess through and through. Everything she did, she did with someone else in mind. From the day she adopted Micah to the moment Marco died, Micah did not see her cry for herself at all. She'd cry when a little boy got hurt and would offer help or cry when she saw a cat get kicked by some drunk douchebag.
mortal adoptive parent	Vincino (Vinny) Bertelli	37 years old	Vincino is an absurdly rich man who was born and raised in Sicily. He found Maira through her singing on the side of the road to raise money for Micah's trip to the US. He offered to take her in because he liked her and sponsored Micah's trip by giving him some money and a ticket onto a transatlantic cruise ship headed to New York City. All things considered, he's a kind and considerate man who loves Maria.
adoptive brother	Marco Di Santis	14 years old, Deceased	Marco Di Santis was a saint. Ever since he learned the word 'kindness', he was absorbed and defined by it. He loved seeing the smiles bloom on people's faces when he shared some bread or helped them with something but what he truly loved more than anything else was sailing and playing the piano. He was handsome beyond reason, having pale blonde hair and clear blue eyes, though he never had a chance to grow into it fully.
dead guy	Chris	16 years old, Deceased	Like Marco, Chris is one big ball of sunshine. The only difference is he's a ghost. Micah met Chris on the cruise he stowed away on to get to the US and the ghost promptly joined him, though reluctantly because he was watching over his parents and little brother, due to finding him interesting. Like Marco, Chris is handsome though he had more time to grow into his looks. Framed by golden hair and chocolate brown eyes, Micah wouldn't have doubted it if the boy was very popular during his living days.
friend	Willow 'Will' Crest	16 years old	One of the more laid-back campers Micah had met, Willow became something of a friend to the son of Charon, though they started off more as discussion partners than anything else. And besides, being chill-buddies is pretty fun on its own. Who knows where things can go from there?
friend	Rachel 'Rocky' Williams	17 years old	Rocky was one of the first people Micah met upon arriving at camp and her enthusiasm, uncharacteristic for a child of a chthonic god, immediately made her stand out. Though he genuinely has no idea what goes through Rocky's head, Micah considers them close, and okay, maybe he has a minuscule crush on her.
friend/former cabin-mate	Ramona Herrera	16 years old	Being another camper who met Micah's criteria for friendship (i.e. Be chill and relax), Ramona is someone who Micah doesn't know too much about. Much like Kit, who Micah has seen around camp and the Hermes Cabin, she is a mystery to him. Though he does enjoy trying to spot which corner she's hiding in at any given camp gathering.
acquaintance (?)	Mathew Knight	15 years old	Matt is, as far as friendship is concerned, a work-in-progress. Micah's father had recommended getting to know the son of Hades and though he'd lost himself in school shortly after, Micah had made introductions.

appearance

faceclaim	height	weight	hair	eyes	skin
FC, Art by Charlie Bowater	5’11”	Doesn't care	Black	Amber, fiery like gold	Lightly tanned, peppered with a few more recent thin scars from his time at camp

description: Micah is a fairly restrained person when it comes to clothes. Usually, he'd only grab a long-sleeved shirt and some jeans, feeling content. Most of his clothing is fairly average, what with them being of all sorts of muted colors and sorts of clothing. He isn't used to expressing himself whether it is though clothing or other methods.
equipment:

• Folding Knife; The cleaver-shaped folding knife was a present from his brother and Micah has taken to using it for almost everything in his day to day. When his mother fell ill after Marco's death, Micah had to scrub the docks, cut rope to secure the boats, and even got to work on some boats during outings for extra cash. The knife became like a lifeline, being used for everything he had to do.
• Bead Necklace; Micah has been at camp for a year now.
• Monster Directory; Over the years, Micah has seen one or two monsters in their undisguised forms and has taken to keeping note of them by drawing them in as great a detail as he can remember in a separate notebook from the rest of his drawings while also making notes of tactics that worked against them.
• Sketchbook; Ever since he started drawing, Micah has had a good amount of sketchbooks, most of which he donated to orphanages in Sicily for the little kids to enjoy the drawings if they weren't destroyed by seawater or other kids. After he donated his last one with a few pages blank at the end, he got himself a new book, this one being leather-bound and practically a blank slate. He's glad to have an abundance of space to draw as his story unfolds.
• Art Supplies; A good amount of colored and uncolored pencils, all in different states of use, either dull or sharp, long or short, and an eraser in a dark brown leather box.
• Satchel; The over-the-shoulder bag Micah carries around with all of his items. It's nothing special, just an olive green bag with a good amount of compartments and space.
• Throwing Knife Bandolier; Micah's choice of weapon, the bandolier he carries is easy to hide under civilian clothes, fast to access, and easy to use. The knives are of standard make and easily replaceable with others from the armory, though Micah tends to clean and sharpen them himself after each use.

abilities:
* – modmailed / custom

godrent domain powers: 

a) Dead Communication; Ever since his close brush with death, Micah's powers surged. His father's connection to spirits and those who have died became his and as such he can now see and communicate with the spirits of the dead. They have been his only source of information on his father. He likes to build a network of spirits whenever he goes somewhere new so he can gather information as fast as possible.
b) Shadow Camouflage; From a fairly young age, Micah wasn't much of a social butterfly. Most of the time, he felt most comfortable in a shadowy nook where the lines of his body would be broken by shadows, using the ability unconsciously. After his near-death experience, Micah became more aware of his ability to hide in shadows and learned to use it more effectively than before.
c) Shadow Travel\;* After an unknowably long amount of time spent in Hades, Micah's father, Charon, was aligned with the underworld to which he led the souls of the dead. Similarly, Micah has inherited the ability to travel through shadows in short or long-range teleports.

godrent minor powers: 

a) River Step\;* The connection with the River Styx flows through Micah's veins as much as it does through his father's. The ability this connection granted him was the ability to walk on water, as long as there is no significant shift to the water, such as large waves.
b) Death Buff\;* Being a servant of the God of the Dead, it only makes sense that Charon would draw his own power from his master. As such, Micah has inherited a trait where he becomes stronger when around children of other deities of death, such as Hades, Melinoe, Zagreus, the Oneiroi, etc.
c) Aura of the Harbinger\;* Being a multifaceted deity, Charon passed down his multifacetedness in the form of an aura ability. Micah has the ability to project an aura with two opposite effects that work on separate targets. A calming effect affects any spirits within the aura while an imposing effect like that of Children of Hades affects living beings within the aura's range.

godrent major powers: 

a) Major Watercraft Manipulation\;* Being known as the Ferryman of the Dead, it only makes sense for Charon, and Micah by extension, to have dominion over watercraft. Micah's control over watercraft was one of the first powers he discovered and the power that is most intertwined with him in his entirety. He has inherited the ability to gain absolute control over any and all watercraft down to the rigging and ropes.

skillset 

Over the years, Micah has picked up a good variety of skills, including fishing and rope work. Still, there have been a great many learning experiences for the boy on the streets of Sicily. Free running came as a given to any child of below-average means in Sicily but Micah was significantly worse than most thanks to a leg injury he got at the age of thirteen. Drawing was the only real luxury he had during his time when he wasn't working. A young lady from a carnival that was passing through taught him how to use throwing knives after he helped her find her way around the city. He learned ballet by watching, sitting for hours outside a studio every day for weeks until he'd gotten good enough to practice independently, which led to his interest in gymnastics. One of the older neighborhood boys took to teaching Micah, his brother, and the other kids how to read and write in English. Micah's adoptive mother insisted on teaching him how to speak English from a young age. Now, he can speak English with a barely noticeable Sicilian accent.
personality
Micah is about as quiet as you'd expect from a Chthonic kid. That isn't to say that he is particularly serious or brooding, in fact, even when he's upset, he rarely does either. He mainly remains silent because he isn't particularly talented at talking. His reactions to most things tend to be a bit muted unless something is especially funny or angering. Any of the kids that liked him or trusted him in Sicily did so because they understood that when it was needed, Micah would talk as much as was needed and would do what needed to be done to keep everyone safe.
Fatal Flaw; Vengefulness
backstory
Micah's past year at camp had been simultaneously the most relaxing and confusing year of his life. There had been a unfamiliarity that Micah had with anything to do with relaxation or really anything but working that had slowly melted away. He'd made friends and discovered passions that might have otherwise gone ignored for the rest of his life (Art was definitely one of those).
So, when school started to take over his time, Micah barely gave it any thought, settling back into his old work mentality, though now focused on mental instead of physical labor. Before he knew it, it was summer, school was out, and he was back at the start, not knowing how to get himself to relax.
now
Micah stared at the ground around the Range target blankly, the celestial bronze knives scattered around it refracting light. He was jolted out of his mental haze when a camper a few rows down yelled at him for standing in front of the target for so long. Quickly finishing up gathering his throwing knives, Micah slotted them into his bandolier and left the Range.
For a while, he just walked, until he reached the pier. Boats had been a constant of Micah's life before coming to camp and when he was really out of it or off his rocker, the son of Charon liked to settle at the camp pier and imagine what sort of sea vessel he'd design for himself. Aesthetics might not have mattered to everyone but to Micah, they did. The ship would have to look as good as it sailed.
Now, he fell onto his back in the sand a few meters from the pier and stared up at the sky. Barely any clouds. Gods that was boring.
(Credit to u/FireyRage for the amazing intro format.)

I was doing some digging around about the meaning of Cryo and it’s “ideal”, and stumbled across a few interesting connections. I am not sure if anyone else has found these connections already (from a quick check) – I tend to only hop on here when I have a crazy theory I want to share. Hopefully I am not rehashing something that's already been covered!
The main theory is that the power of Cryo, like Anemo, is related to Time.
To be more specific, I think Cryo may be the power that creates the "Seeds" that are carried by "the winds of time".
I came across this idea when trying to look into the "ideal" of Cryo.
From what we have seen in the game, all elements are tied to an “ideal”, and each “ideal” is tied to a deeper meaning connected to the world itself. To give some brief examples:

• Anemo – freedom, time and perhaps Death
• Geo – Contracts(perhaps between mortal and divine?) and perhaps history.
• Electro – Eternity and what is eternal, and Change is eternal or constant.
• Dendro – Wisdom, memories and knowledge through experience.
• Hydro – Justice, life and emotion.
• Pyro – War and rebirth and the erasure of memories (as seen from Arlecchino).

From what we know, it seems like the Cryo Archon’s ideal is likely to have been “Love”. So what deeper meaning does “Love” mean and how does it relate to ice or “Cryo”?
And then from there I kind of spiralled!
The main theory here is explained in the first two sections, and the rest of the sections I try and use this theory to explain other mysteries in the game. Those sections might be heavier in speculation.
The Meaning of Cryo
While I'm not sure I have a concrete “meaning” or understanding of Cryo yet, I came across a few interesting themes surrounding the Cryo Element:

• The descriptions of both the Large Cryo Slime and Cryo Abyss Mage mention their protective shields, despite the fact that similar enemies don’t mention this in their description (Geo Slime and other Abyss Mages)
• The Cryo Abyss Mage description also says that their body is vulnerable (hence its need for protection).
• Cryo Hypostasis gameplay has the Hypostasis create a shield while it is healing (protection while vulnerable)
• Tiara of Frost artefact description: “facing fatal flaws. Fatal flaws are born of a fear of death. Fear of death is born of having things and people to care about” (Fatal flaws are the “vunerability” to protect?)
• Tiara of Frost artefact description: “life as weak, and earth blanketed in unending ice” (weakness is a vulnerability – and also I am not sure if the ice is a bad thing here, perhaps the ice was meant to protect the “weak” life?)
• The Spirit Locket Of Boreas description mentions that Andrius let his power seep into the land to “protect” it.
• Childe who is from Shneznaya says “it’s all about family where I am from” (family and love are easy to relate to each other)
• Qiqi Vision Story: Qiqi has a Cryo Vision and apparently before she received it she missed her family.

To summarise, there seems to be themes of protection(perhaps preservation?),family, and vulnerability.
Thematically I can see the ties between these – we love our family(typically) and want to protect them, and the things we protect can be seen as our vulnerability(and/or, we protect things that are vulnerable).
So "love" inspires us to "protect".
Love and it's connection to "protection" is an important part of this theory.
Cryo and Time
There are a few instances in descriptions where both ice/snow/Cryo and time are mentioned together.

• Qiqi Vision story: before receiving her Cryo vision (while she was dying or on the verge of dying), Qiqi wished that time could stop.
• Cryo Hypotasis drop, the Crystalline Bloom, says: “Perhaps it is stagnant time, that never-thawing bosom, that is the essence of this undying flower.”
• Blizzard Strayer artefact set, Frozen Homeland’s Demise, says: “An ancient hourglass with fine powdered snow flowing in it. Even the coldest winter cannot freeze the flow of time. "The cold that descends from the sky can freeze time itself."
  • To me, this might be drawing a distinction between ice and “Cryo”. Like how Hydro and water are not considered the same thing because Hydro is toxic, as seen in the description of Hydro slimes. So normal winters can’t freeze time but perhaps Cryo can?

Furthermore:

• We are able to melt frozen boars in game and when melted, they are completely fine. It seems that they were literally “frozen in time”.
• We also have that quest with Xiangling, where we find Olaf who was frozen by a Cryo Regisvine 300 years ago - and seems to have survived this process unscathed. He effectively time travelled from the past to the future.

So overall, there seems to be a lot of talk about “freezing time”, and it seems like freezing a living organism can preserve them in a way that doesn't kill them (like in real life).
We have seen how Cryo might be related to the idea of “protection” as well, or perhaps preservation?.
So perhaps we can say that the Cryo element seems to be able to "protect" things from the flow of time?
“Seeds of stories, brought by the wind and cultivated by time. Stories brought on the wind will bloom into legends in due time.” - Sundial in Mondstadt related to the God of Time.
In this quote above, it says that “seeds” are brought by the wind/Anemo.
But what are these “seeds”?
While I can’t say exactly what they are, I think that perhaps these “seeds” are at least partially created through the powers of Cryo.
I came to this conclusion after looking at the themes that surround Cryo: love, protection and vulnerability.
These themes, to me, seem to apply perfectly to the concept or function of “seeds”.
A seed tends to need a protective shell, to shield the “vulnerable” parts within.
A seed waits for the correct conditions to sprout, remaining dormant otherwise.
This dormancy can be seen as being “frozen in time”. A seed is effectively “frozen in time” and won’t sprout until the correct conditions are met. This power of protection from time being related to Cryo may be similiar to how the power of Dendro is related to the power of dreams.
Also, remember that when asked about the Cryo Archon, Venti said that “500 years ago, I knew her well.”?
Sure, they are both Archons, but perhaps they were also close because either 1) they both served the God of Time or 2)Cryo Archon is a god of time (perhaps less likely, though).
So the “seeds” frozen in time and/or protected from time, by Cryo, are then carried by the winds of Anemo, to the correct moments that allow them to sprout.
The Love of the Three Moons
This part gets a little more speculative, but fun!
So the three Moon Sisters are suspected to be possible Gods of Time, and also seemed to rule over the Seelie in some capacity.
Love seems related to the fall of the Seelie – as the Seelie seemed to have been forbidden from falling in love with humans. It was after one of the Seelie married a “traveller from afar” that the Seelie fell – some catastrophe struck as a result, soon after this “marriage”.
With the added context that love possibly means or results in the protection from time – that could explain why falling in love with a human was seen as bad. Abusing your powers to protect a human from time sounds bad, for sure.
And maybe, just maybe, the “love” the Seelie had were finite in some way? Which would explain why they couldn’t dish it out to humans freely. Maybe, they had none of this “protection” left over for themselves after giving it away… leaving them to deteriorate and become the lifeforms we see them in today?
In fact, if this is true, then the Seelie gave their love to a “Traveller from afar” which sounds like it could have been an entity similar to the Traveller. The Traveller is said to be a star themselves.
What’s interesting about that is both the Abyss Sibling and the Travellers are stars, and they are possibly very old. In fact, in the We Will Be Reunited quest, the Abyss Sibling tells the Traveller that “I have more than enough time to wait for you, we’ve always had enough time.”
While this seems to be hinting that they have a lot of time, not necessarily immunity from time, it is interesting when you remember that the book Moonlit Bambo Forest says that the Moon Sisters “shared but one love, the stars of daybreak”.
If love is the protection from time, then it could mean that the twins have gained an immunity from the flow of time. Time does not affect them – as they have received the love of the Moon Sisters, who are possibly Gods of Time.
Khaenri’ah, Dainsleif and the Inteyvat
While the pure-blooded Khaenri’ahns are cursed with Immortality, they still seem to be under the effects of time. They don’t seem to be immune.
They seem to still be undergoing some sort of decay – whether it be their memories, mental state, or decaying “from within” (As Chlothar speculates).
HOWEVER – remember how Dainsleif said that he was able to resist the effects of his curse due to the presence of “it”? It was somewhere in the Chasm questline, where he was unsure how the Black Serpent Knights were able to retain some of their humanity without “it”.
Perhaps Dainsleif has also received the “love” of a Seelie/Moon SisteTime god (or whatever the Cryo Archon actually is)?
In fact, now I am wondering if this is also related to the Inteyvat flower, which would harden when In Teyvat, and then return to normal when back in Khaenri’ah.
Khaenri’ah might be located somewhere in the Abyss, and the Abyss seems to have a strange flow of time, after all.
So it might not be too far of a stretch that the Inteyvat flowers are also “protected from time” with this power of love/Cryo until the flower returns to the correct “time” – Khaenri’ah. Though that would also mean that Khaenri’ah is located in a different place in time – in the future or the past, which would be interesting. But probably not impossible from what we have seen in Ei’s second story quest and the Perilous Trails Chasm quest.
Possible Links between Paimon and the Tsaritsa
So there seems to be possible links between the element of Cryo, love, and protection.
The God of Cryo, who is potentially the God of Love and, by extension, potentially the God of Protection…hm.
Remember the “About Yashiori Island” voice lines?
In those voice lines, Paimon claims to be the “god of protection”.
Sure she seems cheeky about it, and was probably joking, but who knows at this point! She might have remembered something subconsciously or this may just be foreshadowing, etc, etc.
Either way, I started digging around to see if I can find any mythological links in real life.
A few interesting things I found:

• Aphrodite, the greek goddess of love, according to some myths, was born from sea foam. And we first met Paimon after we fished her out of the sea.
• Aphrodite seems to be related to the Cherubs (She mothered Eros, who together with its roman equivalent Cupid, influenced the iconography of the Cherubs) and apparently Paimon in the Ars Goetia might have been a Cherub (at least according to Wikipedia).
  
• Paimon in the Ars Goetia could “bestow dignities and lordships”. Genshin Paimon gives people nicknames – but the Tsaritsa bestows “new names” upon her Harbingers. Maybe a coincidence, but you could say that both of them “bestow dignities and lordships”.
  
• Paimon in the Ars Goetia is said to be able to create “visions” (as in dreams) and we do know the Tsaritsa’s Fatui have Delusions, which are fake Visions.
  
• Paimon in the Ars Goetia is also said to have the power of “acquiring and dismissing servant spirits” –perhaps the Fatui Harbingers?
  

I’ve already made a theory previously on this subreddit about the Tsaritsa and the Moon Sisters. So if Paimon is also related to the Seelies and/or Moon Sisters, perhaps these connections between her and the Tsaritsa is not too strange if the theory about Cryo and time are true.
In fact, the goddess Hathor is said to be the Egyptian version of Aphrodite, god of love, and from reading the wikipedia page, Hathor seems very similar to the Goddess of Flowers – who was a Seelie - and the Seelie served the Moon Sisters, who may have been gods of Time.
There isn’t much more for me to say here – I am not saying that Paimon and Tsaritsa are the same person, but just that I find it interesting that there may be some overlaps between the two characters. I can’t say for sure what this overlap means. Maybe Paimon is a fragment of the Tsaritsa, maybe Paimon was a servant of the God of Time along with the Tsaritsa, maybe Paimon is the God of Time and is therefore the Tsaritsa’s boss. Who knows. Just interesting.
Time and the Preservation of Memories
In the Parable of the Lethied Lotus in the Book of Sun and Moon, it says:
"A ship captain searching for the way back to the surface discovered a tribe of people who ate these lotuses. Some crew members stayed in that place. Others rejected that temptation."
In this story, staying where people ate these lotuses is said to be a "temptation". The title of this Parable described the lotuses as "lethied" which is related to the Lethe river of greek mythology, where drinking from it causes you to "forget". In other words, forgetting is a temptation they wanted to avoid.
This is in the same book that mentions the God of Time, and Enkanomiya, where they worshipped the God of Time.
Now, Ganyu, a Cryo character, uses Amos Bow, and the literal translation of this weapon, according to the wiki, is "Determination to Not Forget".
So perhaps this power of "protection" can also protect memories.
Since time causes memories to "fade" (best example, Dainsleif's own faded memory due to his long life) then perhaps this power of time immunity can also be used on memories.
TLDR:
Cryo protects things from time, and those things are then carried by Anemo. Cryo seems to have the ability to freeze things in time (possibly), or in other words, to protect them from the flow of time. The Tsaritsa, as the Cryo Archon, may have a deeper relationship to the God of Time (or she is a god of time – if you think that there are multiple aspects that rule different types of time).
There are also some interesting possible connections between Paimon and the Tsaritsa, which, if they are both related to the god of time, makes sense.
The twins may have also received some sort of protection of time, since they are stars and the Moon sisters loved the stars of daybreak.
Also this might also be related to Dainsleif and his ability to resist his curse somewhat, and Inteyvat flowers.
And this "protection from time" may also be used to preserve more intangible things - like memories.
Discussion/Conclusion
So what does “Love” mean in the world of Teyvat?
In Genshin, the power of Cryo, and therefore the power of love, may be the power to protect things from the flow of time. It protects things from the flow of time, creating a "seed", and that seed stays dormant or "frozen in time" until its the perfect moment for those things to “sprout”.
If true, this calls a lot of things into question.
The Tsaritsa’s plans to possible recreate the world may also link back to this idea of “seeds” – she may blanket the world in snow to make it a “seed” for the next world.
I also think that if this is true, then it is quite poetic that Shneznaya – the land of the Cryo Archon – is the last region in Teyvat we visit (Khaenri’ah probably/possibly not being counted as “in Teyvat” if its located in the Abyss).
Anemo also seems to signify death in some ways (Venti’s Story Quest), and if Cryo is related to the concept of “seeds”, then Cryo represents life or birth.
“Seeds brought on the wind will bloom into legends in due time.”
Anemo is death, and is the wind that carries the seeds, and Cryo is birth, the creation of the seeds.
We started the game in the land of Anemo, of wind, and death – we started our journey in the land of “endings” and, if this theory holds true, then the last place we’ll visit in Teyvat will be the land of Cryo, of ice, seeds, and birth.
We started at the end, and will end at the start.
That is more or less it. I hope you all enjoyed reading my descent into madness! Hopefully not too wordy as I have trouble making things concise and I was getting real tired towards the end of this ha ha. What do you guys think? I would love to hear any thoughts or input, or even corrections if I got some things wrong.

So, as of right now my group is about 3-4 sessions in but hasn’t technically started the campaign (had to wait to officially start because of some scheduling, so I made what I thought was a quick “how you all met” mission which has lasted much longer than expected). But to get me in a pumped headspace I have been watching the Stream of Many Eyes to get some inspiration for the upcoming campaign. During one of the round tables Chris Perkins made a comment that I thought was interesting. That WDH’s downtime is setup in a way where you could run another module right in the middle of it. That got me thinking, that could be very interesting depending on what other campaign you chose. So I started thinking and had the “brilliant” idea that I could work in Tyranny of Dragons into this and have a urban heist romp that bleeds into this sprawling epic with dragons. I think for my table especially they’ll enjoy this and have the best of both worlds.
So here are the changes that I am planning on making in both modules to make them mesh and jive.

1. I am running the Alexandrian Remix first off to add depth to the city and give my party a reason to want to resolve things in the city and not just run off looking for dragons.
   
2. I will be replacing the Grulhunds with a sect of cultists and a Purple Robe. There will be a few correspondents in the villa vaguely describing some of the goings on of the cult in other regions. This will also be taking the place of the Grulhunds in the Grand Game and they are currently track the Stone of G. With the ultimate goal of acquiring the cache of dragons to offer to Tiamat. (The goal here is to shroud these cultists in mystery and not directly tie them to the Cult of the Dragon. Just like WDH we want the PCs to be unsure of the intentions and not give too much away.)
   
3. This Purple Robe will be responsible for the fireball at the start of chapter 3, and will have a Nblewright with a necklace of fireballs that steals the Stone of G. The encounter at Grulhund villa with commence in a very similar fashion to what is laid out in the Alexandrian and depending on who the PCs talked to will determine who is there.
   
4. Once the PCs have the Stone, or at least have an idea where it is the progression will resemble the Alexandrian. The difference being the Cassalanterns involvement and the faction missions. Most of these missions will be geared toward odd cult like activity in the city and surrounding areas. All of these will culminate at the Asmodean shrine as added by the Alexandrian.
   
5. The Cassalanters will be worshipers of Tiamat and will be trying to recruit the PCs to get them the 500k dragons for the offering to Tiamat under the same ploy that their children were cursed at birth etc. They know of the other cultists taking the place of the Grulhunds, but the others don’t know about them.
   
6. Per the Alexandrian the inserted shrine to Asmodeus will be the Dragon Egg hatchery from chapter 3 of HotDQ. Here we will basically have the same encounter as the original chapter. There will be vague correspondence letter between Mondath and Victoro and with high enough rolls the PCs could potentially find the connection. Also held captive here will be Leosin Erlanthar from HotDQ and this will be where the PCs get filled in on much of the info regarding the Cult of the Dragon (as provided in the first 2 chapters of HotDQ) and presumably what their intentions with Neverembers embezzled gold. After his rescue Leosin says he must go meet Ontharr Frume to gather more intel but he will rendezvous with them back in the city. This will give the players a pause enough from HotDQ storyline to focus on the cache of dragons.
   
7. The rest of WDH should play out as normal, with a few smatterings of cultist announcements from town cryers as the PCs walk in the streets.
   
8. Other mechanic changes is Aurinax does not have the dragonstaff. What wards off all potential dragon attacks on the city is the black staff and the Walking statues of Waterdeep who are the sentries of the city.
   
9. The ultimate goal is the PCs give over the gold to the Cassalanterns, in the process of the game to potentially sow distrust towards Vasraj via the Cassalanterns and make the PCs turn on her or if that is unlikely to happen have her assassinated and the black staff destroyed. With the statues rendered useless Victoro initiated an adult from a chromatic dragon and cultists on the city. The gold is taken away and then the proceedings of Tyranny of Dragons can proceed.
   

Clearly this is still in the early stages of being worked out and there will definitely be some balancing that needs to take place along with working in some more of the early chapters of HotDQ along side the storyline of WDH (maybe as faction missions?). and you can probably tell that we remove the first couple of chapters of Hoard to interstate the story into our Waterdeep session.
I know this is wild, and will probably bite me in the butt, but I think this might have potential to be something real fun, and keep Waterdeep at the heart of the story.
Let me know what you think, if you have any suggestions that could potentially help with laying the foundation and making everything cohesive. And I will try to update this as the game progresses!
Happy rolling guys!

Previous Part
My eyes darted around the room, still shocked from the brutality I just witnessed from Shaoni. Katrina had strutted out of view and when my eyes turned to where Brooke’s crumpled form should’ve been he was gone to. At some point both Robert and John had run off towards the growing sounds of gunfire. Shaoni and I still stood in the coliseum, shaken to our cores but both for very different reasons.
*CLANG*
The sudden noise startled me, the sound of metal on metal. The sound came again, this time I heard it clearly and turned around to face the noise only to be met by a few familiar faces.
“Don’t mean to bother you but their shootin up the place, could ya let us the hell in!”
Rocco shouted as he beat Brookes stolen lighter against the metals bars that closed off the back entrance to the coliseum. Bianca gave me a sheepish wave as I looked over their faces again. Frank, Stein, and Tuck were with her. They must have come through the same way Bianca and I had a few days before.
“NOW!”
Rocco shouted in irritation as my brain finally kicked into gear and I ran over to let them through the barred metal gate.
“What’s going on up there?”
I wondered out loud, concerned by how shell shocked they all looked.
“I’d guess something involving the government, with equipment like that I doubt it would be anyone else. Just as we got to the hole Bianca mentioned several men in black tactical gear came out of the forest at our sides. When we didn’t clear out like they demanded they started firing so we dove in.”
Stein explained.
“I take it that’s Shaoni?”
He added, pointing towards where she lay, hunched over and taking shaky breaths on the ground.
“Is she alright?”
Bianca chimed in, craning her neck to get a better view of her past everyone else.
“The hell should we care!? Isn’t it her fault we’re doin’ any of this in the first place?”
Rocco grumbled up at us as he laid back on the ground. Glad to see he wasn’t taking things to seriously. Tuck just stared at Shaoni with this intense anger in his eyes, he didn’t say a word.
I know I shouldn’t care what happened to her at this point but a part of me just couldn’t leave Shaoni like this. Sure, she probably didn’t deserve the sympathy but I couldn’t help feeling a little bad for her now that the anger had passed. When I made my way over to her I got the sense I was seeing the real Shaoni for once. I was seeing someone who witnessed her people rise and fall, saw the country we live in change and grow as it became what we know today. Someone who’d lived countless lifetimes as a piece that just didn’t quite fit the puzzle anymore. I thought about everything Bianca had learned about Shaoni, how she was given her powers, no, her burden in the first place. Suddenly I had a pretty good idea of what exactly she brought everyone here for.
“Shaoni?... Are you… uh, you ok?”
I said like I was trying to comfort a dying animal. The closer I got the more I could hear, she was crying. It was that held back sort of crying right before the dam breaks into full on sobs. She was cracking but still trying to put on a tough face, still trying to be every bit as imposing as she had been the first night I saw her. But she wasn’t, now she just looked pitiful.
“You… you’re right you know Keith. I’m not Justice anymore… I…I don’t think I have been for a very long time.”
She choked out through tears that flowed freely down her face as she rose to her feet.
“I don’t know why I brought you here… I was just so desperate to…”
She trailed off but that was alright, I already knew what she was going to say.
“To escape? Pass on your burden? This whole thing was to chose someone to pass the Thunderbird spirit onto wasn’t it?”
I asked, sure that I was right.
“Yes, this is what I wanted from the start, to give my burden to one of you. At first I wanted the trials to help me make my decision but by the time all of you arrived I just wanted a way out. I wanted to finally live a real life. I’ve lived too long… I just want to live simply before the end that should’ve come so long ago.”
Shaoni cried, more controlled now as she finally started to get a hold of herself.
“So what? You’d just give it to someone else! What about what that would do to them?”
“I just wanted out Keith! I know it was selfish, I don’t care! I just want the nightmare to be over!”
Shaoni screamed out at me. She was hysterical enough that I saw Stein’s hand shoot towards his belt. I’m sure he had that gun I saw yesterday waiting there so I held out my hand to signal him to wait.
“We did good once, in the beginning. But that changed, the wars the injustice I just couldn’t stand by and let that happen so I fought back. I spread the idea that fighting to the death was better than compromising for peace, compromising to save lives. That’s when we… I went wrong. I lead them astray! I was responsible for their deaths! Every! Single! One! I was bitter and resentful for years and I took it out on anyone I thought was guilty. I’ve lived with that for centuries! Do you think I don’t know I’ve become a monster Keith?!”
Shaoni finished with a look of profound shame on her face.
I never thought I’d see the day when I actually felt bad for Shaoni. Not some spur of the moment there’s a full on shootout going on above us and I probably shouldn’t let her die, feeling bad. No, I genuinely felt sorry for her after hearing her talk about the past with total honesty for once.
“You could come with us.”
I offered, looking back to everyone who’d gathered around her at that point. The looks on their faces all told me they weren’t fans of that Idea but only Tuck protested.
“I won’t help her crawl outta the bed she made! Keith, do you honestly think she doesn’t deserve everything thats comin’ to her?!”
“No, but I think she’s suffered enough. Besides, I really don’t want to leave someone down here to die knowing I could’ve done something about it.”
“You know what, fine! You care to much about this Keith, she deserves it! But if you want to take her with us don’t be surprised when she goes on and stabs ya in the back! Now come on, we should get moving.”
Tuck finished, throwing his hands up in the air in an act of frustrated surrender.
“So you realize we’ve got to go out there right? We’re not climbing back out the way we came in so heading out the main entrance is our only option at this point.”
Frank said bluntly as we watched Rocco scurry out of the hole they had dropped in from. We’d all collectively decided we were better off sending Rocco back home. Frank was right though, and even though the sounds of gunfire had started to sound a little farther away I still wasn’t a fan of getting anywhere closer to them.
“I might be able to help with that.”
Shaoni replied, getting to her feet with an air of determination.
“Stay behind me and move when I tell you to.”
We all fell into line behind Shaoni without another word. I guess all of us realized the the sobbing mess we’d seen before also just so happened to be the same Thunderbird that reduced most of Imalone to ashes. So despite how we felt about letting her lead us around it was probably our best chance at the moment.
I was a little surprised that none of… whatever was happening out there hadn’t spilled into the mine and made its way to us. We found out why just as soon as the single file line behind Shaoni made it out of the mine. The camp was devastated, what wasn’t on fire or covered in bullet holes was smashed or ripped to pieces. The ground was littered in bodies and shell casings. A few hundred feet in front of us a small group of Shaoni’s followers where taking shots at the men in black tactical gear Stein had mentioned. There was maybe ten of them but it looked like those ten had slaughtered nearly all of the followers that had made up this camp.
I threw up on the spot, I was so shocked by the scene in front of me I didn’t even manage to bend over, it just kinda waterfalled out of my mouth. I heard Bianca groan in disgust from behind me. I didn’t understand why everyone else wasn’t reacting the same way I was. As I came back to my senses after a minute or so I took off my now vomit covered jacket and felt the cool air through my shirt. Shaoni had instructed us to move and I must’ve moved on my own. All of us were gathered behind a small rocky outcrop near the entrance to the mine.
“You doing alright?”
Bianca asked quietly from behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder. I turned to look at her and noticed the jewel encrusted dagger from before was clutched in her hand, twinkling with reflections from her now glowing blue eyes.
I could barely hear Bianca over the sounds of gunfire. Which almost certainly meant the last of the survivors were being wiped out. I couldn’t watch anymore death today so I just ducked lower behind our cover.
“You hear me Keith? Are you ok?”
Bianca persisted with a little more concern in her voice. I was still trying to pretend I hadn’t just seen dozens of dead bodies but I couldn’t really ignore her forever.
“No not…not really.”
I said, my voice coming out silent as a church mouse.
“Was it the-”
I cut her off
“I’ve never seen a dead body before, I mean I have but not like… not like that. The one guy his jaw was just…. Just gone. How do you guys do it? How do you just look at that and not react?”
Bianca sighed and looked me in the eyes. There was a kind of recognition in them, like she was seeing a little bit of herself in my situation.
“We’ve all seen a lot of horrible stuff in our lives, we’re used to it. Still it doesn’t make it feel normal to see… this. Do you think you can hold it together a bit longer or do you want me to…”
Bianca trailed off but it was obvious to me what she meant. Bianca was offering to soothe that terrified part of me with her powers again.
“Thanks but no, I’ll be alright I’ll probably be seeing this in my dreams for weeks though.”
I answered, trying to make a stupid joke to lighten the mood. Bianca cracked a hint of a smile and that was enough for me.
While we’d been talking everyone had failed to notice Shaoni was gone. She had stood up and was walking straight towards where those men in black gear where picking through what was left of her followers. She was glowing though, every single tattoo glowed with an intense white light and then in a flash she was gone, and the Thunderbird was in her place. Frank and Stein stared in awe of the huge beast in front of them. The Thunderbird looked exactly as I remembered. The blue feathers and steel gray beak reflecting in the light from its crackling white eyes.
“That’s it, That’s the god damn bird!”
Tuck yelled like we couldn’t see what was right in front of us. I think he was just surprised to see the Thunderbird again. Even after years of swearing to get back at “the bird” for the friends he lost I don’t think he ever thought he’d come face to face with it again. Seeing it must be bringing up more than a few memories he’d rather forget.
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret! She’s been helping us Tuck, at least put your differences aside until we’ve gotten all this figured out.”
Stein yelled over an ear splitting screech from the massive bird as Tuck began to tense up. Every muscle in his body looked like it was about to pop, they were bulging to an inhuman degree. With a long exhale he loosened up and the swelling went down.
“Damn it… fine! But only till we got things settled here, after that I need to have a “conversation” with that… thing!”
Tuck shouted in begrudging agreement.
The men in front of us all turned toward Shaoni, her new form towering over them. Then I heard a familiar voice shout out,
“You wanted it gone, You’re looking at it! What’re you all waiting for!”
A commanding voice rang out from one of the people in front of us. I didn’t take long to spot the platinum blonde hair poking out from under the armored black helmet the woman wore, not just any woman, Katrina. I didn’t have much time to let that sink in before Katrina made a fist, stuck two fingers up in the air and shook them forward at us. After that, all hell broke loose.
The men behind Katrina rushed forward, guns drawn. Stein drew his own pistol and cocked it, taking aim at the approaching men. Tuck tensed up again and this time he didn’t hold himself back. Bones cracked and skin shifted to accommodate the inhuman muscles he now possessed. Hair sprang up all over his body and under it his face became more angular, his nose almost snout-like. Tuck looked something like a werewolf but definitely not the wolf man I expected. He looked more like an extremely hairy, unnaturally muscular feral person than any wolf man. Frank, Bianca, and I all hunkered down behind the outcrop, waiting for the worst to happen. Shaoni took to the sky with a flap of her massive wings as the gunfire started.
Nothing ever really prepares you for how loud a gunshot actually is, especially a whole bunch of them from fully automatic weapons. There’s nothing quite like being shot at either, at some point you just have to accept the fact that at any moment one of those things flying around you is going to hit you and just get ready for it. That doesn’t actually do anything to calm you down though, at least it didn’t for me. I was huddled behind that little outcropping like a puppy hiding from fireworks on the fourth of July. Wind gusted all around us as Shaoni flapped her wings furiously. The wind coming from her winds was so intense it blew the bullets being fired at her off course. Lead rained all around us as I listened to the cracks of even more bullets being fired. I heard growling as something roughly Tuck sized tore forwards toward the gunfire.
The sky was turning an enraged black and rain had already started to fall in sheets. Lightning struck the ground every so often as well, to close and regular to be natural. I peaked up over the outcrop at one point. I was just in time to see one of the men get struck by a bolt of lightning and tense up as he fell to the ground. As the men kept firing at Shaoni some of their shots started to hit home. The bullets that didn’t get turned away with the wind glanced off her massive form. Whatever those feathers were made off seemed to stop most of the bullets dead in their tracks but it was becoming obvious Shaoni couldn’t keep this up. From our position behind the outcrop Bianca and I both felt the beats of her wings and the gusts of wind that came with it coming slower and slower. We shared a glance for just a second, from the look in Bianca’s eyes, I felt certain we were doomed. More and more of the bullets seemed to be hitting Shaoni and her movements became slower still until eventually it happened.
With a shrill cry she fell from the sky, her blue features stained red in places. Shaoni hit the ground with an earthshaking crash and lay still. Katrina screamed something I couldn’t hear in the violent storm that still raged all around us. When I inched my way up to take a look I saw Katrina and her men charging toward Shaoni guns drawn. Behind them I caught sight of Tuck’s muscular figure getting back up from the ground. I hadn’t been keeping an eye on him before but it looked like he’d seen better days. He hesitated a bit before me moved, looking back to the outcrop where we were and over towards where Shaoni lay. He looked once, twice, then shook his head, mind apparently made up and ran at the men on all fours.
They didn’t hear him coming from behind over the storm and as they raised there weapons Tuck pounced. With one swipe of his humongous hand he sent one of the men flying off towards the forest. Even Katrina was surprised by Tuck’s sudden attack. The time provided by everyone taking a moment to decided who to point their gun at gave Shaoni just enough time to act. She shot one wing out, glancing off everyone near her and knocking them to the ground. One of them men’s helmets flew off with the hit and Stein quickly lined up a shot and fired, hitting the man in the top of the head. The look in his eyes was devoid of any emotion as he ducked back down behind the outcrop. I got the sense this wasn’t the first time Stein had killed, not surprising considering his time in Germany. Still, there was something unsettling about that look in the old scientists eyes.
As Katrina and her men got their bearings again and started firing at Tuck bullets plinked off the outcrop. Apparently they hadn’t forgotten we were there. I stole a quick glance over to where Shaoni had fallen but the Thunderbird was gone revealing a hole in the ground created from the impact of her fall.
“TUCK!”
I screamed out to get his attention for a moment. Tuck’s head swirled towards me just long enough for him to see my outstretched hand pointing to the hole in the ground. I grabbed Bianca’s hand and pulled her to her feet, making a mad dash to the hole. Frank and Stein saw what we were doing and followed after us. Stein fired wild shots off towards Katrina and her men while Tuck kept harassing them.
By some miracle Tuck was still going even as I saw bullets tear into him, he was an animal. He tossed the men around like rag dolls and at one point I turned to see him bring his now claw-like fingernails arching upwards. The head of the man he’d hit was bent back at a sickening angle, he was dead there was no question but Tuck didn’t even stop to spare a thought for the man. Seeing one of their comrades killed in front of them seemed to get the attention of the entire group of them. I hated to admit it but it was exactly the distraction we needed.
As we ran past the chaos of the fight I heard a mix of screams of agony and determination. At one point one of the men’s broken bodies flew over the four of us and hit the ground with a wet crunch that sent a shiver down my spine. We just kept running though, everyone following behind me because I looked like I had a plan. To be fair I did, it was just a bad plan, more of a feeling honestly. I thought if we could get into that hole Shaoni made we might find a way out, a real long shot but it was the best I could do right now.
By the time we reached the hole and I jumped in Tuck had thrown just about every one of Katrina’s men all over the little clearing we were in. Some where very clearly dead but some where rolling around and groaning. Katrina was still standing though, just before I fell deep enough into the hole I got a quick glance at her as she took aim at Tuck who seemed to finally be feeling all the punishment he’d been taking.
I didn’t even have time to scream a warning before my feet hit the hard rock below me and everyone else fell in on top of me.
“Sorry… sorry”
Bianca squeaked out as she pulled herself out of the pile of bodies we’d become. Frank, Stein, and Bianca seemed alright but my ankle was definitely sprained, badly.
“Can you walk on that?”
Bianca asked, examining my ankle in the strange blue light that emanated from further down the chamber we’d fallen into.
“Maybe? Here can I just lean on you?…. yeah, yeah that’ll work.”
I told her, using her to pull myself to my feet and leaning on her for support.
“What are we looking for Keith?”
Frank wondered out loud, a little fear creeping in to his voice as he looked around the chamber.
“I’m not actually sure, I was hoping we’d find Shaoni down here, maybe a tunnel out.”
I grunted out honestly, still reeling form the pain shooting up from my ankle.
“Wait where’s Tuck?”
“If he didn’t make it down we have to assume the worst. We can’t afford to wait now.”
Stein answered, quickly and professionally like someones life wasn’t at stake.
“He never had to come out here for me! We can at least wait for him, give him a chance-”
Stein cut me off
“None of us had to come here for you! We knew the risks so did Tuck. If we wait here now his sacrifice means nothing!”
Stein yelled at me. He was right, none of them needed to be out here but I still didn’t like leaving someone behind. As Frank and stein trudged forward Bianca and I hesitated a bit.
“I don’t want to leave him either but Stein’s right. Just lean on me and lets keep moving, we can come back later and look for his…”
Bianca trailed off before she could say body but I got the message, and if Bianca was moving forward I really didn’t have much of a choice.
We didn’t have to go far to find Shaoni, her usual deerskin clothing was ripped and stained with blood in places. All in all she didn’t look as bad as I thought she would. The light we saw at the entrance was coming from her tattoos as every one glowed brightly with blue light. The same light glowed faintly from four Thunderbird totems placed in the corners of the huge room.
“Welcome to my nest.”
Shaoni said with a dry chuckle, extending her arms out to her sides before immediately clasping them back over a wound in her side.
“Shaoni, are you… are you going to be alright.”
I asked, but before I could get any sort of answer I was interrupted by snarky laughter and a cocking gun.
“Well thanks for leading me right to where I wanted to be Keith.”
Katrina remarked as she walked into the room.
Bianca’s eyes glowed that all to familiar blue but Katrina was a step ahead of her.
“Yeah I wouldn’t try that if I were you. Sure you could force me to walk right out of here but it’s going to take a second to break me, longer than it would take me to pull this trigger.”
Katrina responded with a sneer, turning the gun on Bianca. Bianca jumped back like a scared cat. Ducking under my arm and putting all my weight back on my sprained ankle.
“Wait Don’t!… Argh!”
I cried out at her just before I fell to the ground.
“Ok, ok just… don’t.”
Bianca conceded, putting her hands up and backing away as the blue glow faded from her eyes. When he saw what Katrina was doing Frank wrestled Stein’s gun out of his hands and pointed it straight at Katrina, finger trembling on the trigger.
“Don’t you dare hurt her!”
Frank shouted, face turning red with fury.
“Well thats cute…”
And with an earsplitting bang Katrina turned and shot Frank in the leg. He fell to his knees, dropping the gun he’d been holding as Stein scrambled to hold him up.
“Don’t get in my way, don’t threaten me, and I won’t have to hurt anyone. Now Shaoni, where were we?”
Katrina cooed with murder in her voice as she took a step forward. I tried to pull myself up to my feet, only succeeding in making a pitiful cry as I fell back down again. Bianca flinched towards me but backed up fast when Katrina’s gaze shot her way.
“Keith, you’re still alive? I don’t know how you keep getting mixed into things but you’ve gotta learn when to just give up. I was supposed to kill all of you down there after the third trial. I gave you an out and you just stuck around. Tell you what though, you can still walk away cause I feel bad you got dragged into this in the first place. I have no idea what she was thinking, roping you into this with no idea about the supernatural at all.”
Katrina addressed me, pointing over at Shaoni after helping me to my feet. It hurt to stand but I was getting used to the pain.
“Above everything else I was supposed to kill the Thunderbird and thats what I’m going to do, after that you all can walk out of here.”
Katrina took slow steps toward Shaoni who simply glared at her. She didn’t try to run though, something told me she was ready, no matter how the next few minutes played out. But I had one more trick up my sleeve as I limped over, putting myself in between Shaoni and Katrina.
“She just wants out of all this Katrina! You have to know about where she came from, everything she’s been through!”
I yelled through gritted teeth, biting back the white hot pain shooting up from my ankle.
“I know enough It’s sad sure, but everyone’s got a sad story these days. She’s been flying around taking out whole towns to use as havens for people who want to follow this ass backwards sense of justice she’s got. I don’t want to become that person who’s hunting down supernaturals like her no questions asked just because I was ordered to. But in this case she’s responsible for hundreds of deaths. The “accidents” that happen in those towns are all her fault, and not all of them are as nice as Eagles Peak. The kind of people a town outside of any real form of government or law attracts aren’t the people you want to be neighbors with. She’s got to die Keith, so do you if your going to try and stop me.”
Katrina explained as she stalked closer to me. I really didn’t want to do what I knew I had to do next but I couldn’t watch anyone else die today.
“Alright, I guess there’s no other way then, Shaoni I’ll take on your burden.”
The whole room exploded into a chorus of “what” in varying degrees of shock but my mind was made up. I turned to Shaoni as she asked,
“Are you sure Keith?”
“Yes.”
Before anyone could recover from the shock of what I was about to do she reached out and grabbed my hands. I took hold of her’s and she said something in a language I couldn’t hope to understand as my vision went white.
When I could see again I was… somewhere else. Lightning flashed intermittently overhead and a grassy field extended out forever around me. In front of me stood a misty grey form of a bird it was huge, easily twice the size of the form I’d seen Shaoni take. Through its shifting misty form I could see Shaoni. The bird seemed to be talking to her but I couldn’t make anything out, I could only guess it was a Thunderbird spirit. It seemed to nod to Shaoni before it turned to me and stared me dead in the eyes. Its beak didn’t move, actually no part of it moved but I still heard its voice in my head as its eyes continued to boar into me.
“My chosen, Justice, claims she has lost her way, is this true?”
I couldn’t begin to describe how this voice sounded, powerful is the only word that came to mind. I didn’t feel like I was in any danger though, in fact I felt calmer than I ever had.
“She has.”
I got the sense that quick simple answers were probably best here.
“Justice spoke very highly of you. You offered to succeed her if she is to be believed.”
“I did, but how exactly do we-”
But I was cut off with a bow from the spirit who evaporated all around me. My vision blurred and everything went white again as I collapsed into the soft grass.
I came to on the floor next to Shaoni, it couldn’t have been that much later because neither of us had any new bullet holes in us.
“What did you just do?”
Katrina asked standing above me and looking absolutely stupefied.
“The Thunderbird is dead.”
Was my simple, potentially completely bullshit answer. Katrina looked from me to Shaoni and back again, eyes growing wide as the realization dawned on her.
“You know what? That works for me, just don’t cause us any trouble and we can just forget this whole thing ever happened. Oh, I like the new eyes by the way.”
With that Katrina walked off and climbed a rope ladder she had attached to the ground outside the hole we fell through.
Everything else that happened was a blur, we went back out and found pretty much all of Katrina’s men dead. Tuck was shot several times and barley breathing when Shaoni of all people found him. She called us over and Stein assured us he’d be alright if we got him back to the lab soon. We carried Tuck’s hairy form over to one of the SUV’s and raced back into town. On the way we drove past Katrina who’d also taken one of the SUV’s and was heading out of town. Bianca made a comment at some point that I looked different. When we got back to the house I looked in a mirror and saw my eyes where the same shade of grey Shaoni’s had been.
Speaking of Shaoni we took her with us, she followed us over to the car after she found Tuck. She looked a bit like a lost puppy at that point if I’m honest. I guess finally being able to live your life free of some strange sense of duty after hundreds of years will do that to you. Shaoni hasn’t actually said much since we settled back in at Bianca’s house. She eats and goes through the motions of normal life, she’ll even shoot you a warm smile if she catches you staring at her. I’m still not used to seeing her with green eyes though. I think she just feels lost but I’m ready to help show her the ins and outs of normal-ish life when she’s ready to ask for help.
Frank and Stein went back to doing their normal experimenting pretty fast. The whole thing past them by like a particularly eventful weekend. Even Frank’s bullet wound was quickly forgotten about. Pretty much as soon as he treated it it was like it never even happened to him. Tuck got back on his feet with a lot of help from Frank and Stein. He walks with a permanent limp now but other than that he’s fine. Richelle just about had a conniption when we told her what happened and she hasn’t left Tuck’s side since. She seemed surprised when we described his transformation and we came to find out he never told her about his, “Condition”. That may be why they’ve been so inseparable lately, she just wants to help him however she can and he sure isn’t complaining about that.
Tuck and Shaoni have been getting along as well. I never thought I’d see the day those two sat down and just talked but after a tense first few weeks they came to an understanding. They aren’t old friends now by any means but I’ve walked in on them both talking about their pasts. Maybe sharing stories helps them deal with living such long lives.
As for me and Bianca we started dating and thats been… well that’s been just great. I think its good for both of us cause after everything that happened at the old mine I was just a bundle of nerves. Having someone like her to talk to, someone who gets it, who’s seen so much worse helps put things in perspective. She finally has someone to really talk to in town too. Theres not a whole lot of trouble for us to get up to but we’ve started making a habit of pouring over Frank and Stein’s notes on the supernatural. Not the most riveting idea for a night in but I like learning more about whats really out there.
I still don’t feel any different after taking on Shaoni’s “burden”. Maybe that sense of duty she felt really was just all in her head, a promise to her people that she never let go. Honestly I haven’t tried to use whatever powers might come with my own condition. I just don’t feel like I need to. Like I told Katrina, the Thunderbird is dead. I’m sure not going to be the next Shaoni or anything like that but maybe It’ll help us find Brooke.
Thats the one thing that keeps Bianca and I up at night, we never found Brooke’s body. The two of us went up to the old mine a week or so after everything happened to look around for any sign of him but we didn’t find a trace. In fact the whole thing was cleaned up and the entrance to the mine was collapsed. I’m willing to bet whoever Katrina works for came back to try and wipe away any traces they may have left here. Maybe they found Brooke out there and dealt with him themselves, maybe he’s still out there somewhere. But for now everything’s been pretty calm, even normal around here.
Rocco is still a menace, Tuck still leaves the Eagle’s Roost door unlocked at all hours of the day, and theres still next to no people living here. Without Shaoni and her trials looming over me life is actually pretty good here. So that’s my story, how a storm and a huge bird dragged me halfway across the country and I started dating a succubus…right after I became the Thunderbird. It still seems crazy when I say it like that. Maybe I’ll dig up something on Brooke but for now I think I’ve finally found my new normal out here in the curiously named town with no Eagles and no Peaks.

Previous
So, if you’re just joining us, I work at a haunted zoo now. Since I’ve gotten some rest, it feels like I’ve got my head on straight, at least, so I’d like to continue where I left off.
I sat on the floor in the office after meeting the ghost until I’d settled my rattled mind (and realized I’d forgotten to ask her name, how rude is that?). I took a deep breath and got up off the floor. Walking over and falling into the rolling chair in front of the large screen of camera views, when I brought up the camera that covered the area in which I’d spotted her, she was still there, and it seemed she hadn’t moved an inch.
Sitting there, at a loss, I continued to watch her. The ghost hung around for another five minutes or so, appearing to look at a few things off-screen, though I’m not sure what. Then she walked off into the forest and left the view of the cameras. I wasn’t sure if she vanished into the ether or if she’d gone looking into the trees to look for something.
But that wasn’t the end of the job interview, so let me jump back there. It continued into what kind of animals the zoo had, with Andrew asking me how much experience I had with dangerous animals.
I took a moment to consider the question. “So, ah…I’ve been going hunting and fishing with a neighbor since I was sixteen,” I told him. “We always have to keep an eye out for gators, bears, and hogs. Then there’s snakes, of course…snapping turtles… Since I’ve lived here my whole life and been aiming for a job with wildlife for a long time, I know a lot about the animals in Arkansas in general. But good advice for all of the above is avoid them, so I’ve had encounters, but I don’t know if you’d say I have experience with them.”
“That’s fine,” Andrew said, nodding. “That’s an answer I’m satisfied with. Now, the ghost was the appetizer, Ripley; here’s the main course. To start with, the pay isn’t twenty-five an hour. It’s fifty.”
Staring in shock for a moment, I asked, “Are you serious?”
“Yeah. But that’d be weird to post online considering what applicants think we need, so I halved it.”
“That’s… Okay, why?”
“The animals are already here. You just can’t see them.”
I stared at him for a long moment, some disbelief worming its way into my expression, before saying, “Sorry, what?”
“There’s a chance you’d naturally never see them, or at least some of them,” he continued casually. “It depends on both your genetics and how long you stay on the job. I can naturally see six of them, but that’s it. Suzanne can see all of them, and more. Some are what people would label demons or ghosts. Or magic. Mostly you’d call them cryptids. The ghost was just a warm-up; I mentioned her first because it never takes more than a week to see her if you work the night shift. If you manage to handle her okay, soon you’ll be able to see the animals too. The more time you spend on the grounds, for weird reasons,” he said, wiggling his fingers in the direction of the back door, “the more you’ll be able to see.”
“So, this…this is a zoo for cryptids,” I echoed slowly. He nodded once, waiting to find out what kind of reaction I would have. I gestured vaguely around the room. “If this is a hidden camera show, will you cut me a check for showing up and participating?”
Andrew coughed out a chuckle and shook his head. “No joke. There are a ton of stories out there that have been written to death, pulverized until they’re not the Grimm stories of old and instead they’re Disney films. A lot of those stories come from what some humans have seen. There are dozens of other worlds pressed up against ours, and occasionally things come through by accident. If they’re smart, they’ll lay low and then make their way back when they can. If not, they become local folklore until someone helps them back. I’m just from London, but Suzanne is from somewhere else. She hires people like us for this zoo. Humans.”
Sighing, I shook my head. “That makes no sense. Why would she hire a muggle for a magic zoo?”
Andrew burst out laughing at that, and then waited to gather himself before he continued. “Fair point, but this is less about magic and more about animals, and you’re missing some information that will explain it. First of all, if I misjudge an employee, and they think they can make bank by outing the endangered and valuable animals we have, it’s easy to relocate the zoo.”
“Because magic?” I asked.
“Exactly,” he replied, ignoring the thread of skepticism in my tone. “That means it isn’t the end of the world if that happened, though it is a pain in the arse. But second…let me ask you a question. Speaking of reality shows, say the Discovery Channel put out a call to replace Steve Irwin when he passed. Imagine they had a line out the door,” he said with a gesture, “of people who thought they had the skill and natural talent to replace him, to take on everything he’d been doing his whole life. How many do you reckon would lose an arm, a leg, or their life, by the end of the day?”
My lips parted in surprise and I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re saying people from…wherever…they’re just as dumb as humans, but they’re worse, because they actually think they can handle these things.”
Andrew pointed the pen at me. “Things. Exactly. You called them things. Suzanne and her friends grew up with them and would call them animals. These animals have dispositions and temperaments that we’ve studied for as long as there have been scientists. Where Suzanne’s from, they know the weaknesses of these animals, and also they’re in enclosures here, even if you and I can’t see the walls because they’re invisible things called ‘wards’. If I hire someone who’s got magic on top of all that, they’ll have almost no instinctive fear.
“Everything here is nocturnal, and every one of them is a hunter. Some of these things? Humans see them and they pass out. Not that I want you passing out, but I need someone who is scared of these things, who knows to stay out of the enclosures no matter what. Not someone who thinks they can train them to do tricks, who gets close enough for them to grab a mouthful of hair and drown them. Once, we had a night shift manager injured, and once killed, because they didn’t take these animals seriously enough.”
Thinking back to the Sea World orca incident I knew he’d been referencing, I remembered wondering how someone at that level of her profession could be so careless as I watched the video on YouTube. It made sense when he explained it like that. I hesitated before mentally throwing my hands up and going all in. “So, why put this place here, then? If they’re endangered and also dangerous, why have a zoo at all instead of just a small reserve?”
He pursed his lips, looking disappointed in me. “Ripley. You know that already. You already said as much.”
Thinking back through our conversation, I said, “The rich humans who pay top dollar to see supernatural animals.”
“Not humans,” he told me. “But people, yes, and they are rich, and they’re making donations and spending their money on a ticket here because everything we have is endangered.”
“So…”
I just let my voice trail off and my mind started to drift. Andrew remained silent, letting me do so. There’s that thing people say, ‘I believe that you believe it,’ which is just a kinder way of saying, ‘Bullshit.’ Parents say it about closet monsters. Psychologists say it to people who say they’ve been abducted and probed by aliens. I wanted to say it to Andrew.
But I also wanted a job. If it meant working overnight at an empty zoo, that was fine. When it came down to it, especially when I took the tone of our conversation into account, this was a zoo specifically focused on preserving endangered ‘animals’, and it was allegedly doing important work. Also, if this turned out to be the real deal and I started seeing the animals, I would deal with it, just like I would deal with an enclosure that had a lion or tiger or gorilla. If it came with a ghost and invisible creatures, I really didn’t see what the difference was, if I couldn’t go in the enclosures either way.
On that note, I’d like you to imagine a kid who looks at a roller coaster, watching everyone screaming and grinning as they go up and down and all around and they’re like, ‘Heck, I could do that! That looks like a blast!’
Then they get on, the first drop hits, and they realize they’ve made a terrible mistake.
“All right,” I sighed. “I can’t say I’m going to turn down a job just because it’s going to be scary. Especially not one with this paycheck.”
Andrew smiled. “Awesome. There’s an adjustment process for anyone working here, similar to a dog that gets adopted, actually. I know the general guidelines of, ‘three days, three weeks, three months’ in terms of milestones, until they finally feel they’re where they’re supposed to be,” he told me, “and you can think of your time here along those lines. I really think you’re a great fit, and once you reach the milestone of working here for three months, I’ll officially consider you our new night shift guard. And I hope you’ll stay with us for many years.”
I nodded and smiled at the flattery of an employer wanting me to work a great job for them for a long time. I’d never had a dog, but those milestones were well-known among anyone who knew animals, especially dogs. The first three days, the dog is getting to know its new digs, exploring, and decompressing. At three weeks, they’ve gotten used to their environment and are starting to get comfortable with their surroundings and the routines of the humans they live with. By three months, they know the rules and follow them, they trust you, and they feel they are where they’re meant to be. I could only hope to be so lucky.
I saw the ghost two days ago and she has yet to make another appearance (for those who are curious, I asked, and her name is Leila), and I still hadn’t seen any animals. I did hear one, though, I feel compelled to note. A growling roar sounded from the lake on occasion, echoing across the vast zoo, sending a shiver down my spine. Whatever that animal was, it sounded gigantic.
Andrew said there was apparently a group that wanted to visit for a birthday and they were offering a huge donation, so he let me know they were making an exception and that this group would be walking through the park that night. That meant I’d be watching people watching animals that, as far as I could tell, weren’t there.
It was anticlimactic. Even the three people who came for the tour just looked like people, not like aliens or something eldritch from another dimension, and I stayed in the security office the whole time. Andrew was the one giving the tour. I watched them spend about five minutes at each enclosure, the hour or so that they were there passing without incident. It was clear that they were able to see all the animals, though, since they motioned excitedly at each enclosure and spoke to Andrew, who presumably answered any questions they had.
If they could see the animals, that was that. There was still that niggle in the back of my head, from my twenty-three years of life never encountering anything like ghosts or cryptids, telling me that this was ridiculous. Waiting for someone to knock on the door, a camera mounted on their shoulder, to tell me that it was a big joke and they wanted to see how long I’d play along. But from all I saw, this was a real place with real, invisible animals.
I do carry a taser and pepper spray in my capacity as a security guard. Though it isn’t for the animals, since they’re in the enclosures; they’re actually for the rare instance of a break-in. Andrew mentioned that it had happened several times it the past, someone trying to steal an animal in the hopes of selling it on the black market. They’d been successful before, but apparently my predecessor Roger was good at his job, and mostly they left in handcuffs.
I’ll be honest, I’m not a huge fan of confrontation, but my job was to call Andrew and then confront the person, not kick their ass. That’s what the police were for, or rather, the people Andrew would call in lieu of police in certain situations.
Fifty bucks an hour. That’s the key here.
Andrew hadn’t set up direct deposit, since he was sticking with a strategy of waiting to see if I’d continue to work there once I found out myself dealing with the animals (I’ve decided I am going to just call them animals). Instead, I got an old-fashioned check after my shift every Friday. The number on the first check was delightful. I went out that evening and had a big dinner at the local diner, order my most expensive favorites on the menu and a big slice of pie for dessert.
When it came to the paychecks in general, though, I had this weird feeling of not wanting to tell my dad and brother about the fact that it was actually $50/hr. I previously mentioned that my dad, his name’s Nathan if you’re curious, works at a local grocery store. Our town has a couple food franchises, but I think its size is just short of whatever threshold Walmart uses to decide where to open. He earns $14/hr. and that’s after the tiny raises he’s gotten over the past thirteen years.
That’s not to say he’d feel bad about not making as much as me. On the contrary, he would be ecstatic for me and really proud. But, like me, he’d be suspicious. That hourly rate was the biggest hint that this was more than just a private zoo for cryptids. And as soon as that fat check cleared without problems, my dad wouldn’t be satisfied with reassurances; he’d want to come visit the zoo and look around.
I’d told him it’s a private preservation with scheduled (expensive) visits only and that it had only eleven animals, so he’d been appeased by me brushing off the idea of a visit. Also, I took a few photos of my workplace; one of the security room, one of me sitting in my chair, one photo of the many screens I watched, and a selfie where I was feigning sleep out of boredom, slouched in my chair with my mouth open in a faux snore. That let him feel like he knew where I was and what I was doing, and that I was safe.
But if I told him I was making double what he thought, my father would practically order me to quit. No job was worth my safety, he’d tell me. I was quite of the opposite opinion, however, considering how crucial any and all conservation efforts were these days. Especially with the steep extinction levels due to humans competing with other animals for space, not to mention climate change. Working in any job that helped preserve species and keep ecosystems in balance, or put them back in balance, was so important.
Then again, my father would also point out something I had realized right away: the fact was that I was working with endangered species that were not from Earth. I wasn’t helping my planet. To be honest, though…that didn’t matter to me. Especially after that talk with Andrew about why he hired a human for this job, I figured whichever dimension these animals came from had the equivalent of us, razing forests to the ground, clouding the planet with pollution, and leaving the animals with no avenue of recourse when yet more land was taken from them.
I really do hope to keep working here for a long time, though, and not just because of the money. I can’t help it; I want to know what these things were, and I want to work with them, to do the job of a zookeeper. The same way you go up to the chain-link fence to get close to a carnivore on the other side who thinks you’d make a nice afternoon snack. You just want to be closer to them, to experience that incredible, daunting feeling of being in their presence.
Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t long before I got what I wanted.
The day after we had the tour go through, I was doing my sweep when I saw the ghost again. She was sitting on a small boulder in the same area I’d seen her the first time, looking identical, blood covering the front of her slashed shirt, the wounds visible underneath. I stopped and stood there for a moment before I decided to raise my hand in a small wave.
The young woman cocked her head at me and raised a hand in the air in an imitation of my gesture, her expression showing a bit of curiosity.
She was low-key, seemingly not concerned with my presence, looking at me as a novel phenomenon in her world. I wondered what that world consisted of. Was she always here, sometimes visible and sometimes not? Or did she have another world next to ours, in the ether, where she left everything in this world behind and floated in her disembodied form? Did she still feel emotions? Was that really curiosity on her face, or was I projecting? Did she feel happiness? Fear? Did she have the option of moving on, or was she stuck here?
Many questions that I might never get the answers to. And that was assuming Andrew knew the answers, since I’d never met Suzanne Cooper and he hadn’t even mentioned that possibility. This place was clearly her baby, but I’m sure running it was a lot of work. Plus, if she was rich enough to own it, she was rich enough to have other businesses and charities to run.
When it comes to the enclosures, they’re all wrapped by a barrier of some kind, though never one that seems adequate. There was not a single place with the ugly metal weavings of a chain-link fence, and no stretches of circular razor wire. Instead, there are nice fences. Black iron, or wrought steel fencing in a similar style to the one circling the perimeter of the zoo, just shorter and with different patterns. Or a spaced picket fence, the wood stained in some tone of brown, or a split two-rail fence. As if to say, ‘This is the border of your enclosure, but we’re just letting you know out of courtesy.’
When I started to pass enclosure number seven last night, a young woman’s voice spoke, “Hello.”
I startled, unaware that I hadn’t been alone. “Oh. Hi,” I said, staring at her standing a few yards in.
She had been next to a large tree and I hadn’t seen her. This enclosure was behind a picket fence, and she walked through the large area of wild grasses and flowers that stretched across the other side of the fence. There were fewer tall grasses closer to the fence, which I guessed was because it had been tromped down by her regular pacing along it when there were visitors, or if she wanted to see the various enclosures of the zoo. Her sudden appearance was a bit weird, considering I had been expecting to see a cryptid and instead I was looking at, it seemed, an attractive Asian woman.
She wore a black kimono, the soft silk robe draped gently over her body, with beautiful patterns of cherry blossoms, more so over her left side, and red and blue birds with their wings spread. A sash wrapped around her abdomen, she wore socks and sandals on her feet, and her hair was up in those rolls that gave volume to the style.
I was no expert on any fashion, much less that of another country, so I just assumed it was all traditional Japanese clothing. Most likely, the visitors who came liked to see a certain time-honored style and that’s what she stuck with. Or maybe she played on stereotypes. That would be amusing.
“I’m Yui. It’s nice to meet you,” she spoke, arriving at the border of the fence and holding out a hand for me to shake.
I’d been standing about three yards away from her, and I’ll be honest, muscle memory tried to kick in. But I only made it two steps, my hand starting to rise, before I froze, the hand falling limply at my side. “Nice to meet you, too,” I answered, my voice quiet.
Damn. I wonder how many times that honey trap works back where she comes from.
The pleasant look on her face faded, and she lowered her hand. “You won’t shake hands with me? Isn’t that rude?”
“I mean, I kind of like my hand where it is. You know, attached to me.”
Her demure smile widened into something more amused. “I would never do something so revolting.”
Looking her up and down, as if more visual information would give me more knowledge of what she was, I asked her, “What would you do?”
“I would be less wasteful,” she said softly.
A finger of ice trailed down my spine, and I had the sudden image in my head of her grabbing my outstretched hand in an iron grip and yanking me over the fence, leaving me to sprawl on the ground. Then killing and consuming me efficiently, without a single careless step, the same way humans slaughtered pigs, using everything from the hog but the squeal. I was struck with a shiver at the idea of her consuming everything from me but my screams.
Slowly, I took one step further down the path, then another. Just as I got to a walking pace, though, I realized the woman had started walking too, in the same direction. I’d have eventually gotten to the end of her enclosure and keep going, leaving her behind, but she spoke up. “Are you leaving?”
I came to a stop, meeting her gaze again. “My job is to walk the zoo every hour. Then I’ll get back to the security room and stay there until my next walk.”
“Have you met the others yet?”
I hesitated before saying, “Just Leila.”
She blinked languidly. “That means nobody welcomed you here.”
“Andrew did.”
She didn’t reply to that. Instead, she slowly started to lean forward, and I flinched backward a few steps further as I saw insect legs start curling out from her back.
No. Not insect. Arachnid.
The eight legs ended in small ‘paws’ with tiny claws, a layer of hairs covering the leg from top to bottom, like any typical tarantula. I took two more slow steps back and my mouth went dry as the jointed legs just kept lengthening, until they were large enough to lever her off the ground.
My gaze had been on the spider legs, but my heart skipped a beat as I realized her human legs had melded together and turned into a bulging abdomen. Her skin was shifting to a carapace, eventually all the way up to her shoulders and down her arms, her fingers elongating and her nails stretching to claws. From there down, her body was that of a pale tarantula with pedipalps the size of my arms and piercing fangs in her jaws that looked like they could take my head off.
There was a moment, my vision blurring, where I was worried that I might piss myself. The part of my brain that still had its humor intact in that moment told me that I should keep an emergency set of clothes in my car, or at the very least, start wearing Depends to work.
“I show you my true form,” she said softly, her voice now raspy like an eighty-year-old after a lifelong smoking habit. “Welcome to Suzanne Cooper’s zoo. The night shift guard for many years was Roger, before he retired and the zoo moved, and I miss him dearly. What should I call you?”
I choked on my words. There was no way my throat was going to cooperate enough for me to clearly get a sentence out. Instead, I realized my legs had taken control of the situation themselves, unsatisfied with my conscious brain’s decision to stand and stare, taking steps backward. I backed up a yard, then five yards, then ten.
My mind focused on the fact that spiders don’t waste anything, and pictured my demise. I’d be wrapped in a cocoon, killed, and made nice and mushy before she had me for dinner.
The whole time, my brain was a frenzied mess, my pupils were probably the size of dimes, and I was staring at that tiny, pathetic fence between her and me. There was so much adrenaline pumping through my body that I felt like my bones were vibrating. The fence was, to my eyes, the only thing between us. The only thing keeping her from tackling and killing me. My only hope was that she’d do it quickly.
But she didn’t move. As I absorbed her innocent, polite words, the look on her face was calm, and I wondered if this was typically the way a conversation went before she devoured her prey. I wondered how many people she’d eaten. Not humans, not people from Earth, but the ones from where she came from. The fact that she doesn’t scare the shit out of those people means they’re staggeringly dumber than humans.
Finally, I rounded a corner, both relieved at having her out of my sight and worried that she would take that moment to come find me. When she’d been within eyeshot, I had at least known where she was and could run in the other direction. But I didn’t hear the sound of faint footsteps moving rapidly toward me. All was quiet, in that deep, smothering way that only an empty business in the middle of the night in small town America could be.
My hands trembling, I barely paid attention to anything but the confirmation that my surroundings were free of the colossal spider as I finally got back to the door. Grabbing the handle and letting my eyes dart around for about ten seconds and my ears prick for the slightest sound, I finally swiped my key card across the pad and went inside, shutting the door behind me and engaging the backup deadbolt.
Maybe that was why they had decided on keycards. If I was running from something and panicking, using an actual key or inserting the card like at a hotel would keep me from getting to safety considering my hands were shaking enough to mix a margarita.
Walking over to my chair, I fell into it, letting my body flush itself of terror as I looked up at the cameras. There she was, still in arachnid form, exactly where I’d left her behind that rinky-dink fence, casually looking around and slowly pacing back and forth. I stared at her as my racing heart gradually slowed, and a minute or so later she turned on her eight legs and walked back into the trees.
Whatever invisible fences the enclosures have apparently work, which is nice, because I wasn’t keen on getting killed by one of the creatures here. And that’s what brings me here, spilling out everything that’s happened so far. Because nearly passing out from terror isn’t something I wanted to deal with at work, obviously, but I keep going over what she did in my head again and again, and I feel like I reacted like a child who spotted a wolf spider on their bed. I started to worry for my overactive sense of self-preservation, at least in my capacity as an employee here.
The spider didn’t even try to hurt me, and so I was feeling a bit foolish. Even annoyed, actually, at the fact that I’d freaked out so hard and took off instead of trying to engage in at least basic conversation. I got the sense that she wasn’t at human-level intelligence, but I was never going to be able to hold any level of conversation with an alligator.
Sure, she did mention that she wouldn’t be so crass as to yank off my hand because she’d rather just have my entire corpse, but wouldn’t a wolf do the same if it was hungry? Wouldn’t any carnivore? Actually, they probably would’ve been satisfied with one of my hands. The fear here was from the fact that she turned into a giant spider. If she’d turned into Clifford, I would’ve reacted the same way, if not better than, meeting Leila.
With that, I decided I’m staying on the job. Considering how frustrated I can get with foolish people, it’s a bit hypocritical, and I’m being a bit of an idiot. But…there are definitely wards keeping them in their enclosures. Also, I signed up for creatures for another dimension, whether or not I believed in them at the time, and I will not let encountering my first one in an objectively boring way be the reason I quit.
The money is a factor, I’ll grant you. Of course it is. And I can’t spend it if I’m dead, but all signs point to surviving as long as I don’t do anything dumb. Also, yes, I’ll admit there’s a not-so-little voice in the back of my head that’s desperate to know what else is here. I never thought I’d do something like this, but finding out these things are real, I honestly do want to learn more about them.
Still, though, I decided to call Andrew at the end of my shift to ask if the pepper spray and taser I carried worked on a certain spider, as well as the other animals I’d yet to meet.
Previous

Previous Part
The first sound I heard that morning was foot steps outside my tepee.
“Get up! Shaoni wants you all in town.”
The gruff but familiar voice of my driver from three days ago shouted at me. It had to be some sick sense of humor on Shaoni’s part, sending this guy to come get me for things again and again. Honestly, even I was starting to feel bad for him. Bianca stabbed his friend I knocked him off that stage yesterday with one of the war clubs. I speak from experience when I say those things HURT.
“Alright alright, just give me a second to get dressed!”
I yelled back to the man as I rushed to get around inside. At least he had the common courtesy to stay outside. A minute or two later I stepped out to see everyone else gathered around the man. Brooke, Katrina, John, and Robert all stood there, just staring at me.
“Mornin’ sleeping beauty”
Robert finally said after what seemed like forever, nearly choking on laugher at his own joke.
“I thought you were never going to wake up. Did you not hear Shaoni last night? We were supposed to be up 6 sharp.”
He explained after his laughing fit. Apparently I had missed that bit of Shaoni’s whole presentation last night. Katrina grabbed a pair of keys out of her pocket and started walking away.
“Come on, we’ve got to get into town and finish this whole thing.”
She called back to us just a little too eagerly.
“She’s letting us drive? I thought she didn’t want us heading back to town without some kind of supervision.”
I questioned as we all walked toward the same beat up red pickup that had brought me here.
“I guess she decided to make an exception.”
Katrina replied, not even bothering to look at me.
“Besides I don’t think running is much of an option at this point.”
She continued, pointing up towards the sky. A storm was brewing there, a killer one by the looks of it. The odd thing was it didn’t seem to want to break, it was just stuck in that state right before it starts raining cats and dogs. The dark, angry clouds tapered off in the sky the further they got from town, Shaoni’s doing, it had to be.
The five of us would just about fit in the truck, not comfortably but we would fit.
“Oh hell no! I’m not dealing with you up here!”
“Why not?! You know you love it.”
Brooke and Katrina argued as he tried to take the passenger seat next to her.
“No you go in the back or I’m driving us straight into a tree, I can’t put up with you anymore.”
Katrina yelled at Brooke, tensing up and getting ready for a fight.
“Would you guys just knock it off! Just sit in the back Brooke, I’ll take the passenger seat.”
I scolded both of them, I was done with their little arguments, it was starting to get under my skin. An evil grin crossed Brooke’s face as he turned to me
“What’s up with you two? You’ve been all buddy buddy with him since we all beat the shit out of each other with wooden sticks. He didn’t get to you first did he? Hmmmm?”
Brooke prodded with a wink.
Katrina Immediately punched him in the face before I even had a chance to respond.
“Ey that’s a good right hook! Give em’ another one, come on come on!”
A heavily accented voice cut in from below my feet. Rocco had managed to slip in without any of us noticing. When Brooke lay eyes on him he just about jumped straight into the truck bed. Apparently whatever Rocco did to him yesterday had left quite the impression.
“I’m not even gonna ask, just shut up and take a seat.”
Katrina told Rocco, slamming her door shut as I took a seat next to her and Rocco hopped in the back. Robert and John pretty much made themselves flat to their doors as Rocco took a seat in between them in the back. Brooke rode in the bed, shooting nervous glances at Rocco every now and then.
Katrina drove like a bat out of hell through the woods and back into town. I’m not sure if she was in that much of a hurry to get all this over with or if she just hoped her crazy driving would throw Brooke overboard. Given where we were headed and how close we would probably be to Bianca, I can’t say I wasn’t hoping the same thing.
We pulled into the parking lot of the Save-A-Lot I’d gotten groceries from my first day here. The storm over head was raging but oddly enough It still wasn’t raining or anything like that. The wind was picking up and the sky looked absolutely sinister but other than that everything seemed fine in the town.
Before Katrina’s combat boots had even touched the ground she was already giving orders.
“Alright listen up, We’re working as a team this time wether you all like it or not. I want us to split up and see what we can find. Anything out of place, anything that seems suspicious, I want you to make a note of it. We have to figure out who the victim is going to be and who’s doing the killing. We have nothing to go on either so nothing is to small here. Lets all take a look around town and meet back here in two hours. That’s two hours sharp Keith!”
Katrina barked, taking charge of the situation and leveling one quick jab at me before turning on her heels and heading out into the town.
As everyone else hurried off in different directions I took a second to think. If I was looking for someone where would I go? Where in town would I most likely go no matter what? That line of thought is what led me to the front door of the Eagle’s Roost. Cliche I know, but a bar was a good a place as any to start, even if it was 8 in the morning. Maybe someone new had stopped by and Tuck would know something about it.
The door was unlocked as usual so I let myself in, if Tuck didn’t want guests I’m sure he’d lock it.
“Hey, Tuck? You in here?”
I called into the bar as I noticed the usually roaring stone fireplace had fallen silent.
“Tuck’s not here right now sweet heart, but I can take a message if you’d give me a moment.”
“Oh, ok take your time then.”
I answered before realizing the motherly southern voice couldn’t possibly belong to Tuck.
“Wait who are you?!”
I chirped as I rushed up to the bar and peered back into the kitchen where Tuck usually was. In his place was a dark skinned woman that looked a little older than Tuck. She wore a pink checkered shirt under an apron that read, “Kiss the cook”.
“My, I haven’t seen you around. I’m Richelle, Tucker’s wife.”
She answered. Her southern accent was smooth and calm. The exact opposite of Tuck’s brutal hillbilly speak that he tried to hide.
“Did he not mention me? He doesn’t like to introduce me to the new comers, always worrying about me that one.”
“No, I think he mentioned you helped keep this place running when I first met him.”
“He must like you then, most people round here don’t even know he’s married. Anyways what can I help you with sugar?”
Her motherly voice did wonders for my stress. I could see why Tuck married her, with just a few words I’m sure she could set anyone at ease.
“I was wondering if anyone new came into town or passed through here. Maybe someone out of place, something like that? Oh, and where’s Tuck?”
“Well I can help with both those things. There was a man here, got off a bus last night all alone and came right in. I don’t know what it was but I just had a bad feeling about him, made me shiver.”
She gave a little shiver at that, to demonstrate I guess?
“As for Tuck he’s been staying with those scientists and…. and I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone that.”
She explained, a look of embarrassment crossing her face as she finished.
Before I had a chance to respond I heard the door slam open behind me. I swore I heard someone shriek my name. All I saw before someone knocked me over the stool I’d been standing next to was a blur of black hair flying toward me, and bright glowing blue eyes.
Bianca wrapped me in a bear hug on the floor.
“What happened to you, are you hurt, how are you back!?”
She fired questions at me as fast as she could.
“Bianca, crushing my… can you just, ease up a bit.”
I pleaded as she squeezed me harder than a boa constrictor.
“Sorry! I just didn’t think I’d see you…”
She squeaked, trailing off suddenly. A single tear making its way down her face as she blushed slightly and released me. In that moment I realized Bianca, who had stabbed a guy not to long ago for grabbing her hand, just bear hugged me. I’m not sure what I felt about that but at the moment, I was just happy to see her and even happier that she was happy to see me.
“Shaoni let us back into town for the last of the trials. We’re supposed to stop a murder in town.”
“A murder?! Is that what you were asking about? Is that man a murderer? My, what is going on in this town.”
Richelle shrieked, reminding Bianca and I that we weren’t alone in here. I felt the hot blood rush to my face as I looked up to see Bianca blushing as well, even redder than before.
“So, did you end up finding anything out about Shaoni?”
I asked Bianca as we took a seat at the bar, getting straight down to business as Richelle started stress cleaning in the kitchen.
I was a bit surprised by what she said. I never expected Shaoni to be THE Thunderbird or a descendent of them. I was still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing.
“So she went into hiding here then? That cave we stumbled into that was connected to the mines. Was that her… nest?”
I thought out loud, hoping Bianca would have some kind of answer.
“I guess, that’s what Frank and Stein have been calling it too. Speaking of Frank and Stein we should probably go see them. We were planning to break you out today, guess we were a little late on that huh.”
Bianca said, getting up from her seat at the bar. I’m not sure reuniting with Frank, Stein, and the rest of them was the best idea. At the moment I didn’t have a whole lot of other options though. I got up and followed Bianca out the door, heading back to her house to call off their rescue mission.
“Good luck darlin’!”
Richelle called after us, I felt sure we could use all the luck we could get.
“How the hell’d ya get back here son?!”
Tuck asked as soon as Bianca and I walked through the front door. Rocco had already found his way back and had apparently been filling everyone in on what had been happening. Stein was unloading some sort of pistol with a long thin barrel on the kitchen table.
“I’m glad I won’t have to use this at least. It’s been… many years since I’ve had to take this out of storage.”
Stein explained to no one in particular while staring at the gun. No doubt it brought back memories of his time with the German military. Frank walked out of the basement at that moment and nodded to me.
“Glad to have you back Keith.”
He said, clapping a hand on my shoulder.
“It’s great to see you all but I can’t stay too long, I’ve got to go back.”
“WHAT?!”
Everyone yelled in unison, even Rocco.
“It’s the last trial and Shaoni is overseeing it personally. You see that storm outside? That’s all her, if I don’t go back she’ll know and I’m sure there will be consequences. Besides Brooke is here too, I don’t want to give him any reason to go looking for me and bump into Bianca.”
I explained to everyone, not enough to wipe the shock off all their faces but at least Stein seemed to understand. Just the mention of Brookes name made Bianca freeze up. Only for a second but I could see this tension pass over her whole body and her eyes suddenly glowed blue and widened with fear. I was paying so much attention to how she’d react to that name that I almost didn’t feel her reach out and squeeze my hand from her place at my side. She sighed quietly before her eyes returned to normal but she still kept my hand in hers.
“You can’t go back! We only just got you back!”
Bianca protested, but my mind was made up.
“I need to see this through and besides someone’s life is at stake. I should try and stop that at least.”
Bianca couldn’t argue with that, neither could anyone else. I could tell Tuck and her wanted to but they didn’t. All Tuck did was quietly nod his head and grunt. I could tell Bianca was running through every possible argument in her head to try and make me stay but wasn’t coming up with anything. Bianca let go of my hand and asked,
“Can I at least come with you? To help stop the murder I mean.”
She looked into my eyes like a puppy, begging me to say yes.
In any normal circumstance I would’ve given in immediately to that, especially coming from someone who looked like her. This time though, I just couldn’t. I couldn’t take the chance that Brooke would see her and something bad would happen.
“You can’t Bianca, I don’t want anything happening to you especially with… him out there. I think Shaoni offered to help him find you if he showed up for these trials or something like that. Either way I’m pretty sure he’s here for you.”
I told her as gently as I could. I could see her recoil at the idea that Brooke might be here just for her. She was scared, maybe more scared than she’d ever been that there was even a small chance of Brooke getting his hands on her again.
“I… no, no your right.”
I didn’t expect her to give in so easily but it was a welcome surprise.
“I hope you know what yer doin son.”
Tuck told me as I got ready to head back out. Frank and Stein cornered me before I could leave as well.
“Take this.”
Frank said, thrusting what looked like a jury rigged walkie talkie into my hands.
“If you need anything call us on that. We’ll help however we can, and don’t expect us to sit around quietly when you go back. We fully intend get you out still, no reason to let a perfectly good plan go to waste.”
I thanked them for the walkie talkie. I was glad they were still looking out for me even if I doubted they could do much against whatever was to come, it was good to have people in your corner. Bianca was waiting for me when I got to the door.
“At least I get to say goodbye this time.”
She said with a little smirk. She’d been acting different since I got back, much more… personable?
“Yeah I guess so. What’s been up with you? You’ve been acting… different.”
I asked her, a little nervous for some reason.
“You helped me… a lot actually. Your the first person who’s really cared about me in years.”
“That’s not true, look at Frank and Stein.”
I responded, missing the point of what she was saying.
“No, not like that. I mean your a friend, a good friend… no that’s not, ugh.”
She said, shaking her head and looking a little embarrassed. Then she did something I really didn’t expect, she leaned over and kissed me.
“Just… make sure you come back ok? For me.”
She added as she pushed me out the door, starting to turn lobster red. My head was spinning but there was a bug dumb smile on my face, I’m sure of that. Filled with all the confidence that brought me, I headed back to the Save-A-Lot to see what everyone else had turned up on the impending murder.
As I walked back lighting began to crack across the sky. The lightning took all kinds of unnatural shapes. I swore one time it almost looked like a pair of eyes, watching me from the sky.
“Alright everyone, I want reports!”
Katrina shouted like a drill instructor, bring the group of us gathered around the hood of the truck to attention.
“The elderly cashier inside, she was… disquieted. More so than I would expect of someone in this strange town.”
John spoke, saying the first words I’d ever heard from him in a wise sage-like voice.
“I looked around for some kinda police station but this shit hole town doesn’t have one. How the hell am I supposed to report a murder if there’s no police!”
Brooke complained to the crowd.
“So, you accomplished absolutely nothing, I kinda figured that.”
Katrina scoffed at him.
“Yeah there hasn’t been a police station here as long as I remember. We never needed one, everyone either moved on to fast or stuck around and just wanted to be left alone, never caused any problems. Still, it’s a little strange come to think of it, would’ve figured the government would make us have some kind of police.”
Robert informed us before giving his own report.
“I looked around a bit myself, didn’t come across much on account of there not being all that many people to talk to in this town. Those old scientist types in the big white house never answered the door when I knocked and I couldn’t find their daughter.”
To my horror Brooke’s eyes lit up and he was suddenly razor focused on what Robert had to say.
“I did see some guy I’d never seen in town before walking around. Didn’t want to talk much though, he just turned around and walked the other way as soon as he caught sight of me.”
Robert finished with a shrug. Brooke seemed less interested after he heard nothing else about the daughter Robert mentioned. Did he know Robert was taking about Bianca?
“Wait that strange guy, was he wearing an old hat? Some kind of bowler I think, looked really out of place.”
Katrina asked suddenly, her eyes lighting up.
“Yeah now that you mention it I think he did.”
Robert answered after thinking for a second.
“Damn it! He saw me and ran when I was searching around town myself. So next order of business we find that guy. Keith! Did you see anything else?”
Katrina asked, whirling around to face me.
“I stopped by the bar and the bartender there told me someone new came into town a few days ago. Apparently she had a bad feeling about him. Maybe its the same guy you two saw?”
I proposed, pointing to Robert and Katrina. Katrina paced around for a bit, thinking I guess. She finally came to a rest again at the front of the truck, apparently she’d come up with another plan.
“Alright, I want that guy in the bowler hat found so we’re breaking into teams of two.”
“Uh, isn’t there five of us, that won’t work.”
Brooke interjected, earning him a look of pure murder from Katrina.
“Keep that up and I’ll find that raccoon, you can pair up with him!”
She yelled completely over Brooke’s attitude.
“I’ll go alone, Robert, John, you two are together same with you Keith and asshole.”
“I have a name you know!”
Brooke complained, getting yet another look from Katrina. If he kept that up I had a pretty good idea of exactly who the murderer and victim would be.
“Alright alright Jesus lady cool your jets!”
He said, putting his hands up in surrender as Katrina took a threatening step towards him.
A few minutes later Brooke and I had broken off from the other three having all agreed to meet up back at the truck in another hour. Brooke had insisted we go to the bar and search for the guy but I had a feeling there was more to it than that. He proved me right when he ducked into an alley and pushed me up against the side of a building right on main street. Usually that would be instantly seen by someone but here wasn’t like anywhere else. There was no one around to help me out or even see what was going on.
“I know we’re supposed to be looking for a murderer but I’ve got other things in mind. That daughter Robert was talking about, you know something about her don’t you.”
Brooke questioned with a growl, arm against my throat holding me uncomfortably tight against the building.
“Daughter? What are you talking about?”
I choked out, deciding to play dumb. He didn’t like this to much and pushed me even harder against the wall.
“That raccoon mentioned her name the other day when the fuckin thing attacked me and it seems pretty buddy buddy with you! Bianca! ring any bells!”
I felt my face grow red at the mention of her name as I thought back to the way she kissed me at the door. That reaction betrayed me and the beginnings of a twisted smile appeared in Brooke’s eyes.
“Oh yeah, you know her don’t you? Know what she can do to I bet. Did she tell you about me, how she threw away everything I could’ve given her.”
He hissed at me, venom dripping off every word.
“At first I didn’t care but then I heard stories of this whore who could wrap you around her finger like nothing else. She’d do whatever you wanted but you’d also pay whatever she asked, do whatever she asked. Imagine my surprise when I started looking into it and it turned out to be my little escaped bird.”
Brooke continued, grinning like a mad man. He was obsessed with her, it didn’t take a genius to see that. But I was in no position to argue with him, I could barley speak with the pressure on my neck from his arm.
“They called her a succubus, the crazy ones at least. Turns out they were right though, there was something off about her from the first day I met her but I had no idea she was something exotic like that. See I make a habit of collecting things, rare things, and she’s the rarest I’ve ever been able to find. I was so close to having her at one point but she just had to break away. When I met Shaoni late one night researching the supernatural she agreed to look into her for me on one condition. I agree to show up in this town in the ass end of nowhere and participate in some trials for her. Easiest deal I ever made, now I’m this close to getting my hands on her again. Imagine what she could do for me, what I could get with her powers.”
Brooke finished his monologue, finally letting me go.
“Now you’re going to show me where she is and I’m going to get the hell out of here. Get going!”
He shouted at me, drawing a pocket knife from his white suit jacket.
My first reaction was to look around and search for a way out. I couldn’t fight him, that was clear. I really didn’t want to get stabbed either. My eyes darted around trying to find anything that could get me out of this. Then I found exactly what I was looking for on the other side of the street.
Katrina had found the man in the bowler and he was running back toward the Save-A-Lot like Usain Bolt himself.
“Katrina, HELP!”
Brooke whipped his head around, trying to catch sight of her before she did anything. Katrina wasted no time though. She took one look at him, pulled the gun from its holster on her waist, and fired. The crack of the bullet made me run on pure instinct and Brooke dropped to the ground. It hadn’t hit him unfortunately, but it had bought me enough time to run.
“Argh that bitch! I’ll find her myself!”
Brooke shouted before getting back to his feet and running the other direction. The guy Katrina had been chasing used the distraction to make some distance on her. He was nearly to the corner that turned towards the Save-A-Lot. I took off after him as Katrina did the same, ripping the walkie talkie from my pocket as I ran.
“Stein get Bianca out of there! Head out to the mine, maybe there aren’t to many people there now, just get her out of town! Brooke is here and he’s looking for her I’ll meet you once this is all over ok.”
I think Stein said something back but I didn’t catch it. The adrenaline spike of getting shot at and chasing this guy who was likely a soon to be murderer made it hard to hear.
We weren’t as fast as we hoped but we were just fast enough to see the consequences of that. As Katrina and I got into the parking lot the guy was already inside, pointing a gun of his own at the elderly cashier that gave me a hard time about my ID. I made out the movements of her lips just before he pulled the trigger. It looked like she said “Oh, you’re the one she sent then.” Just before he killed her.
I stopped dead when I saw the body drop, I’d never seen someone die before. In Imalone people had died but I’d been knocked out for most of it. Seeing it up close though, it made my stomach drop. I fell to my knees and threw up on the spot, the blood, god the blood splatter behind her it was horrible.
Katrina didn’t stop after the shot, if anything she charged in even faster. The gun was still in her hand and she held it up in front of her, using the weight of the gun to smash through the glass doors with the bottom of the grip. The shards of glass rained down on the murderer who surprisingly, seemed just as stunned as I was by the corpse. Katrina dropped her shoulder and charged into him, hitting him so hard they both fell to the ground. She was back on her feet quick as lighting, flipping the guy over onto his front and putting a knee on his back in between his shoulder blades. Katrina locked his arm behind his back and said something I couldn’t hear. At that point I kinda spaced out. The only other thing I remember before getting in the truck was Katrina leading the man out of the store with his hands zip tied behind him. The few people who were in the store had come out and were starting to pick over the scene as we shot out onto the road back to the mine.
I noticed one of us was missing when we came to a stop.
“Where’s Brooke?”
“I wasn’t waiting for him, not after whatever he pulled in town. He can find his own way back.”
Katrina answered me while pushing the man she’d apprehended out of the truck and toward the entrance to the mine.
“Are you doing ok? You looked a little white on the way out here, like you saw a ghost.”
Robert asked me as we got out and followed behind Katrina.
“Sure sure I just… never saw someone die like that you know.”
I said, never so sure that I wasn’t ok. Robert gave me a knowing nod as we made our way down to the coliseum.
Shaoni and Katrina were waiting for us already. Brooke was there too, beaten and bloody against the wall. It looked like someone had dragged him back here against his will, probably Shaoni if I had to guess.
“I can’t say I’m pleased with what went on in town but in the end you did discover the murderer, even if it was too late. Now it’s time for the second part of this trial. I want to hear your judgements, what should this man’s punishment be?”
Shaoni greeted us, ignoring everything that had gone on before like it didn’t even matter. Something about that made my blood boil.
“Katrina, you first. What should this man’s punishment be?”
“P please.. you said.”
The man muttered before Shaoni slapped him hard across the face.
“You will be silent!”
She ordered, the room suddenly becoming electric with her temper. Katrina stepped up in front of Shaoni and gave her judgment.
“He took a life, he should be killed as well. It’s the only way to be sure he doesn’t do something like that again.”
Shaoni nodded at that and pointed to me.
“You next Keith, what should we do with him?”
I was filled with a rage I’d never felt before as I looked at the whole situation. Shaoni was meant to be a spirt of justice, or so I thought. Yet she let that woman die. Worse still, after what the woman said I believed Shaoni may have arranged the whole thing, murderer, victim, and all. That’s not justice, that’s playing god, using her power and influence to mess with people like pieces on a chessboard and for what? Just so she could “test” a few people who’d caught her eye?
“You deserve punishment Shaoni. That man is innocent, you put him up to it didn’t you? Him, the victim, all of it! It’s all just some kind of game to you isn’t it?! You keep claiming you represent justice but from what I’ve heard you’ve had a problem with that. This is something else though, where is the justice in this Shaoni, where! I don’t pretend to know what you’ve been through over the years Justice, but this isn’t right. If it was up to me this man should be let go so he doesn’t have you whispering in his ear and you should go back to sleep like you had been years ago.”
I shouted at her, not caring what she would do to me. It felt good though, to finally let her have it, especially after all she’d put me through.
I learned Shaoni’s real name from Bianca but hearing it seemed to make her shrink. The second I said it I had her full attention.
“No! You don’t understand Keith! These people were terrible, guilty of their own crimes. I found them both and offered them a deal. Submit to my judgment or do something for me and face the judgment of another. They got their punishments, I’m no monster!”
She roared back, the beginning of tears brimming in her eyes.
“Guilty or not you used them like pawns Justice! None of this is right, there’s no justice in it, no right and wrong. It’s just a game to you! Don’t you see this is wrong!”
I yelled at her again.
“DON’T YOU USE THAT NAME!”
She thundered back.
“Would you prefer Vengeance?!”
I added, shattering her.
The mention of that name brought Shaoni to tears and she lost her temper. She threw her hand out toward the man still zip tied on the ground in an act of anger. The tattoos on her arms glowed with a blue, ghostly light. The energy grew until a bolt of lightning arced from the tattoos, filling the room with the scent of ozone. The bolt hit the man in the head, searing the skin of his face black in an instant as his body went still.
“You don’t understand, all those years, all those mistakes. Do you know what that…!”
Shaoni started to scream to me again, but she was cut off by the sound of vehicles above us and the cracks of gunfire.
I looked around in surprise, still in shock after the brutal death of the murderer in front of me. I saw Katrina holding her own walkie talkie and smiling.
“Looks like my ride is here, time to end this little charade. Keith, I’d suggest running if I where you. Shaoni, I’d say its been fun but you’re the whole reason they sent me out here in the first place. You’ve been way too much trouble but for what its worth, good luck.”
Katrina hissed at the two of us. Robert, John, and I were stunned, even Shaoni herself seemed shocked back to reality by whatever was happening. With her piece said, Katrina turned and walked out of the mine, towards the growing sounds of shouting and gunfire coming from outside.

Previous Part
“I knew it, I knew he’d pull something like that!”
Was the only thought running through my head as I watched Keith get forced into the truck outside. I was scared for Keith and I was angry, that kind of anger you feel in the pit of your stomach. Not at Keith though, my fury was directed at myself for freezing again. I just sat in the window and watched him get taken. Headache or not I should’ve done something, anything! Instead I just sat there and watched, powerless as always. My first instinct was to go running back home, maybe Frank and Stein could help somehow. Imagine my surprise when I walked in the door and they were looking for me. Well maybe I wasn’t to surprised, I hadn’t told them I didn’t plan on coming back home when I left yesterday.
“Bianca! We were just going to come looking for you, Keith had this idea and… are you alright?”
Frank asked, concern covering his face like a shadow. I must’ve looked like a mess, and the hot wet feeling on my face told me I’d started crying at some point on my way over as well.
“Are you ok? Did something happen?”
Frank repeated in his best fatherly voice. I could barley stammer out the words.
“Keith… gone… they took him.”
My babbling was enough though, realization shown on both their faces. Stein said something to Frank that I couldn’t hear then they nodded to each other.
“He was almost spot on with the timing. Well we best start getting around to do our part then.”
Stein said in his usual uncaring and mildly haughty manner. I don’t know why but it really boiled my blood this time. Keith was gone and he’s just moving on with things?
“Does no-one care about what just happened?! We agreed to look out for him and what did we do? Nothing!”
I screamed at no-one in particular. Those two just gave me a look like I was a misbehaving child.
“We’ve done what we could Bianca, besides Keith is the one who suggested what we’re about to do next.”
Frank stated, in an even and calm tone that made me stop and realize how ridiculous I was acting. Freaking out wouldn’t get us anywhere, even though I really wanted to. So I took a deep breath and stepped back for a second to collect myself.I hated to admit it but in a way their cold, calculating, order of operations approach would probably help here. Those two would never crack under pressure like me. While they didn’t talk about it, I’m sure they’d seen far worse working with the government.
Stein was rushing around looking for car keys when I came back into the kitchen. Frank however, stopped what he was doing to come over to me. I held up my hand to stop him when he opened his mouth to say something.
“No, you don’t have to try and convince me, I’ll come with you. What was Keith’s plan anyways? What did he put you guys up to?”
I asked, much calmer than before but still a little on edge. I couldn’t help but to feel at least a little responsible for what happened to Keith. I know it wasn’t my fault but I came with him for a reason. As much fun as last night had been I wasn’t taking it seriously. I should’ve stayed up to watch for Shaoni, maybe looked around for something she left when she was there before. Regardless, I had to be better next time.
“Keith thought that maybe someone from the reservation a little while outside town may have heard legends about Shaoni. She’s the Thunderbird, that’s an important figure in their stories and legends. Being so close to where she had been sleeping for years he thought there might be a connection. So he asked us to go out and ask around.”
Stein answered me before Frank had a chance to, walking into the room and tossing a jacket my way.
“And put this on, its cold out there.”
It was actually funny how often Stein tried to care and actually came off as so much colder. Almost like he was doing it because he had to, not because he actually cared about me.
“Don’t mind him, he’s just stressed with everything going on lately.”
Frank explained, trying to comfort me. He was right of course, but it didn’t change the fact that it still rubbed me the wrong way.
Ten minutes later I was in the car headed out toward the reservation. It wasn’t a very eventful ride and the pine trees didn’t make for great scenery, I’d seen it all before anyways. Frank and Stein were quiet the whole time and we couldn’t find Rocco before we left. Part of me wondered where he was and part of me didn’t want to know. This gave my mind time to wander and I found myself thinking my life before meeting Frank and Stein. It was weird, I usually tried not to think about it at all but something had brought those memories roaring back. Probably due to Keith asking about it the other day. No-one ever seemed to care about that, my past that is. Every now and then I’d get bored and wander around town. Someone might come up to me and talk but not like Keith did. The only real questions they asked were usually something along the lines of “What’re you doing tonight?” And other variations of that. They were usually looking for something I had no interest in. Sometimes it wasn’t entirely their choice to talk to me. I’d just use my powers simply to have a conversation with someone. Keith actually cared about me though, at least I think so.
A loud honk broke me out of my trance, we had arrived on the reservation. The improvised trailer park we’d arrived in wasn’t much to look at. A dog or two ran around the cluttered ground, free from any sort of leash. An older car missing most of the front end sat raised on a few blocks of concrete. The trailers themselves were run down and rusted. Despite the sorry sight of the place three men sat around a fire, laughing and generally having a great time. The trio looked up as we walked over, recognition passing over their faces. We must’ve looked out of place here in our shiny SUV and Frank and Stein’s three piece suits. Those two were always overdressed when they went out. The only place they fit in was the lab and they seemed more than fine with that.
“Stein! Is that you?”
Exclaimed the man on the left, standing to meet us. He looked happy to see Stein, though I had never seen the guy before in my life. Which meant he must’ve been a friend from before I knew Stein.
“My friend! How have you been? Have you had any difficulties with your… condition.”
Stein replied, cutting his eyes at the other two men like he didn’t trust them.
“They know old friend, no need to beat around the bush here.”
He had to have some supernatural abilities, that’s the only way Stein knew anyone. The question was, what was he?
The man’s name was Sam, Frank told me as we joined the men at the fire. I asked him for more, like what he meant by condition but he wouldn’t budge. Condition usually meant supernatural but a lot of them just looked like normal people. I’m sure everyone has some picture of a succubus in their head and I’m… not that. So I couldn’t even begin to guess at what Sam’s “condition” was.
“So what brings you out here Stein? I hate to say it, but I never expected to see you again.”
Sam said, trying to be as friendly as possible while ultimately telling Stein he didn’t really want him here. He didn’t feel nervous, that much I sensed for sure. No, it was fear that drove him to try and push Stein away, but what did he have to be afraid of?
“I assure you I’ll be gone before I overstay my welcome. I just have a few questions I’d like answers to. It’s entirely possible that you know nothing as well, in which case I’ll be gone even sooner. But you wouldn’t lie to me just to see me gone, now would you?”
Stein almost threatened, some of the friendliness slipping out of his voice. There was more going on here than what I could see or even sense. I’ve got a really good sense of what people are feeling at any given time but the context of those feelings can get lost on me. Sam was feeling fear, way too much fear for the situation. Maybe he knew what Stein was going to ask but I couldn’t tell for sure. I looked to the two scientists, cutting my eyes from Frank to Stein trying to see if they wanted me to step in and calm them down.
“Stein… I can’t… if she knew I talked to you she’d come here. The things I’ve done… what you helped me stop doing. She wouldn’t see it that way if she came here… she would…”
Sam blubbered out, completely losing his composure before Stein raised a hand and cut him off.
“She? You mean Shaoni, we’re aware of what’s going on. We still do have some questions about her though, ones I hope you have answers to.”
At the mention of her name all three men shot up, so I stepped forward. Frank protested but he was to slow to stop me. It’s difficult to describe how I can make people do what I want, these days I just kind of will it to happen and it does. I can force an emotion, or a feeling onto someone else by imagining it myself and projecting it onto them. Frank and Stein think it has something to do with pheromones my body produces. These pheromones can induce certain emotions or feelings if I want them too. In this case I wanted these men to feel tired, cooperative, compliant, and that’s just what they became. Just as soon as they tried to stand they buckled to their knees. I was pushing a little to hard so I eased up a bit, I didn’t want to just put them to sleep or something. Sam got back to his feet and sat down in his chair as the others did the same.
“I’d like to know about Shaoni, The full story, as much as you know.”
I commanded more than asked Sam as he just nodded towards me, a vacant look in his eyes.
“Where should I start exactly little lady?”
Sam asked me, his tone a mix of nervous and compliant.
“I want to know what you know about her, all of it, then we’ll go.”
I answered, trying to ignore the looks Frank and Stein were giving me. They knew I was taking a risk, he didn’t want to share what he knew so I was forcing it out of him. He wanted to tell me now but it wasn’t really “him”. I was in his head, and while he wasn’t going to fight me on anything now, I was sure a part of him was screaming deep down. Fighting desperately to keep his mouth shut to avoid the consequences of telling me anything. I tried not to think about what I was doing to him as Sam began his story.
“Well to start her name wasn’t always Shaoni, It’s hard to keep one name when you’ve lived as long as her. Her name meant “Stormcaller” as near as it translates to your language. She was an elder in a long forgotten tribe in what you know as Canada today. She was renowned for her ability to over see trials and solve debates among her people, always able to set right apart from wrong. The exact name and place of her tribe have been lost to the ages but I do know that it was wiped out. As the story goes the tribe met its end at the hands of “explorers”, all save for Stormcaller were killed. She fled far into the forests and eventually stumbled upon four spirits, the original Thunderbirds. At this time they were still great spirits, created by Nanabozho. Those spirits took pity on Stormcaller, allowing her to live with them in the four corners of the world. With them she learned many things, how to fight, how to think as only a spirit can, and most of all she sharpened her already formidable sense of justice. That need to see justice done, and the proper sense to see what was right from what was wrong is what lead the chief of the Thunderbird spirits to bind itself to her, giving her the powers she’s said to have today, letting her exist as spirit and man made one.
The other Thunderbird spirits eventually followed this example, choosing representatives of their own, each representing an Ideal: Courage, so that our people would never falter in the face of adversity. Solidarity, so that, divided as they may be at times our people were one at heart. Duty, so that our people would never forget their place in the world and the customs and traditions we upheld. Finally there was Justice to lead them all, so that no wrong would be left to stand, and so that one among the ideals would keep the rest in check. These four formed a council that watched over our people for many years.
As imperialism grew in the world and more crimes were committed against their people this council became more and more warlike. Often Stormcaller, now simply known as Justice spearheaded these actions. She sought to right the wrongs committed against her people and hold all responsible accountable for their actions. In accordance with her duties as the embodiment of justice for our people. This war of hers would prove to be her downfall, every day her sense of justice became more absolute, more black and white. She stopped consulting the council to help guide her decisions, believing she and she alone knew what was best for her people and fellow ideals. One thing that changed when the Thunderbird spirits bound themselves was their immutability. As a spirt nothing could harm them, they were eternal, they were and always would be. But once they had become one with a man they could be ended, They would live forever but man’s mortality meant they could be killed unlike before. Something Justice would learn for herself in time.
As her warlike nature grew, Justice began to involve the ideals in open conflict with those who sought to take their peoples land and desecrate their way of life. Eventually Solidarity fell in battle, and those who saw him fall learned of the greater forces at play. These people sought to learn the truth of the power the had seen from Solidarity and doubled their intrusions into sacred land, searching for answers. Suddenly the hunters had become the hunted, perhaps if Justice had not clung so tightly to her convictions everything would’ve ended differently. Instead Justice doubled down on her pursuit to right every wrong she could lay her eyes upon, spurred on by the death of Solidarity. Eventually Courage fell and so to did Duty, only hardening Justice’s resolve. It was only when she revealed herself to her people one day and they fled from her, afraid of what she would do. Afraid that they to had committed some wrong that she sought to right in her own violent way. This reception forced Justice to realize what she had allowed herself to become. Justice had become Vengeance, lost in anger for wrongs she could never hope to right she had lost herself, becoming something else entirely.
She shed her name, her duties, her people and disappeared into the world. Watching what would come for her people broke her. She had lost what she sought to guide and guard, let the people the Thunderbird spirits sought to protect so long ago fall to ruin. Her need to see justice done never left her, but what was once a raging inferno became nothing more than a spark. If she came across one that had escaped justice, hidden their tracks or found a way out she would know. She would right the smaller wrongs of the world in her own way, stoking what remained of the flame within and finding her own purpose in the world. Eventually she would take on a new name, Shaoni, why I do not know but it is what she choose. Her sense of justice was still absolute, she saw no shades of grey just right and wrong. But the scale of her judgment was reduced, no longer would she try and right every wrong the world had to offer but only those she could reach. The world is a dark place though, and sometimes a lesser evil can ease pain. Shaoni didn’t see lesser evil as something she could abide and so her judgements often left more pain in their place. She grew weary of her pursuit once again, seeing how little she had changed and how much pain she had brought. She chose to settle down and remove herself from the world. Shaoni would never be able to die, not from the passing of time. She could remove herself from the equation in a cave not to far from where we stand now.”
Sam’s story hurt to listen too, in some ways it only seemed like Shaoni did what she thought was right. Yet time and time again she failed to see shades of grey, and that cost her everything. It made me think of who I was years ago in a way, not that I was some all powerful spirit thing like her but still. What would Shaoni think of the person I was? How would she judge me for my actions before I meet Frank and Stein? I certainly wasn’t a saint, but did that mean I couldn’t be better? I shook my head, now wasn’t the time to think of things like that. I stopped forcing Sam to answer my question, leaving him to his own devices. There was always some lingering effects after I… did my thing. I’m not sure how exactly it felt for them but I don’t imagine it was pleasant. Realizing you weren’t really in control of yourself has a way of causing issues for a person. Sam seemed to be shaking it off pretty well though, I’d seen worse things happen after I’d finished with someone, like Keith losing hours of time sitting in the kitchen. Playing with emotions can cause stress in the brain, especially since I’m forcing an emotion or feeling on them. More than once I’d seen someone left with uncontrollable swings in mood or a complete lack of emotion or feeling of any sort because of me. I hopped that wasn’t going to happen again here.
“Bianca what was that!”
Frank complained, finally breaking free of the spell the situation had cast over him. He ran over to the other two men that hadn’t gotten up from their chairs like Sam. Worry crashed over me like a wave as I realized why Frank sounded so concerned. One of the men was seizing on the ground, his body shaking violently as spasms coursed through him, had I done that? Sam was in a blissfully ignorant sate, he just sat in his chair watching the fire, unaware of what was happening to his friend. Frank and Stein leapt into action, holding the seizing man on the ground. Stein pulled off his belt and placed it in the mans mouth, trying to keep him from biting himself. My eyes were fixed on the third man who lay motionless on the ground. I took small steady steps toward him, hoping against hope that I could find a pulse. As I got closer I realized his chest was rising and falling. He was alive but who knew what he was going through right now. I felt distant, Frank was yelling something at me but I didn’t catch a word. I had to do it right? I had to make them tell us what they knew, it could help Keith right?
“What did you do to them?”
Sam asked me, apparently free of the aftereffects of my influence. I snapped my head to the side and watched him take a threatening step towards me. I backed away, afraid he might do something rash. I shouldn’t have done that, Stein could’ve convinced them on his own.
“What did you do to them? What’s wrong with them?”
Sam asked again, his voice growing more desperate. Stein picked that moment to appear at my side.
“Sam they’ll be ok just give them a minute. She didn’t mean to hurt you or your friends, just let it go. I’m helping her the same way I helped you, she’s not always in control.”
Sam softened a little bit at that but he was still wary of me. What Stein said was a lie, I had control of my abilities most of the time these days but Sam didn’t know that. Frank walked over to where we were standing with a relieved look on his face.
“They’ll be alright, they just need rest. What about you, are you feeling alright Sam?”
Frank asked, nodding towards him. Sam didn’t answer but it was plain to see he was doing far better than his friends.
“I’d like you all to leave.”
Sam ordered, putting his metaphorical foot down. Whatever favor he owed Stein didn’t matter anymore, he wanted us out. People were beginning to come out of some of the other trailers, gawking at the scene in front of them. As the three of us were leaving Sam said one more thing,
“Stein, this makes us even.”
He growled in an even but angry tone. You could just tell he was staring daggers at us the whole way back to the SUV. I turned back for a moment and I could’ve sworn his skin was wriggling and changing. Like he was just barley holding back something. What concerned me even more was what he felt, not anger or worry, but fear.
The ride back was less than pleasant. You know that feeling when you’ve done something wrong but no one really wants to address it yet? Yeah, that’s what was going on here, the air was practically electric.
“We needed him to talk…”
Stein cut me off immediately, shouting,
“Sometimes you don’t need to help! Look… I know you meant well but you can hurt people with that power of yours. I’ve never seen it that bad before but then again you’ve never done it to a group of people that long. Who knows what longterm consequences it might have. Just… be more careful in the future.”
Stein wasn’t as angry as he tried to appear, part off him was even relived, maybe because I had been the one to handle the situation instead of him.
“I know, I know its just… Keith is stuck out there at that mine with her, I couldn’t leave with nothing.”
I agreed, He was right, it was a risk but how could I have just let it be? No-one else was going to look out for him so that fell on us now. As much as I hated having to force things out of people I was good at it, really good. Despite how I felt about what I could do to people that was the easiest way to get Sam to speak back there.
“Where did this whole drive to help Keith come from anyways? A few days ago you talk him into watching the house and throw some money, our money, at him for the trouble. I’ve seen you do that a few times before with others so you could come with us when we went to stock up on things. Regardless of our misgivings surrounding your methods. So it didn’t go that well this time and he found out about you and us. Something like that was bound to happen eventually. What I can’t picture is why you go out of your way to help him. I don’t personally have any issue with you jumping to his defense. Its not too hard to understand why someone would, considering his situation. But for you, well it seems out of character for you.”
Frank chimed in with a question of his own. I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it hurt to see him so surprised that I’d consider helping another person.
I never answered Frank’s question, I thought about it a lot the rest of the way back though. Why was I so intent on helping Keith? All my life I’d done things just to survive, even when I was really young I had to find a way to get by on my own. Sure I had my mother but she had her hands full with her own life. She didn’t have much after my father left and did everything she could to make ends meet. I just tried to stay out of her way and help where I could. I never complained when she forgot to make dinner, or when there just wasn’t food around the house. I’d just go without or take what I needed from someone else. Even back then I knew it was wrong but I always had looks on my side. Combine that with pity and not a lot of people would say no to the cute hungry kid. After Brooke, I only had myself and I just kept doing what I needed to. This was different though, I didn’t have to help Keith but I wanted to help him all the same. I didn’t get around town much and I always felt like I just existed around Frank and Stein. With Keith I wasn’t just this thing lying around the house, I was a person, a friend even. That was it, the first time it really clicked for me, Keith was my friend, not because I had wanted him to be or because I made him think he was. No, he was actually there for me and it was all his choice. I didn’t have to puppet him around myself, he actually wanted to be there. I didn’t have to wonder if it was just me and everything I could do pulling him in. For the first time in years someone had actually cared enough to ask about me, Frank and Stein never really did because they knew how much it hurt. Keith didn’t know how much it hurt to talk about but still. I needed to actually talk about all that happened to me with someone who listened for real.
Coming to that realization only made me want to do something stupid. Like run up to that mine and try to get Keith out of there myself. But that’s exactly what it was, stupid. If we wanted to get Keith back we’d need something better than just me. We’d need a real plan, one I’d just started thinking of. There was something else eating at me to. Keith had offered to take some burden from Shaoni back in Imalone, I had an idea what it might be and it scared me. If I was right well, Keith was in more danger than we all thought.
When we pulled back into the driveway Tuck was waiting at the door.
“Where’ve Y’all been?! I been lookin’ for ya damn near all afternoon! Somein’ happened o’re at Keith’s place, He’s gone. I cain’t find that “lab assistant” of yours neither.”
Tuck said hurriedly, his southern accent that he usually tried to hide seeping out into his words.
“We know, it was those trials he told us about. I presume he told you as well then?”
Stein informed him as he got out of the car and marched towards the door, barely making eye contact. Stein had an idea, I could read it all over him. He got this way when he was away from home and wanted too test something, once he was back there was no standing between him and his lab.
“Yeah, the kid told me something like that. Would explain where all those people were goin’ to. Couple of the regulars in town, ones I know look up to that damn bird, left this morning headin’ towards the old mines.”
Tuck spoke to no one in particular, nodding to himself as if to check off the fact that Keith disappearing and people leaving town were two related things.
“Why don’t you come in then, you might be able to help out with the situation. We just learned a few things about this… “damn bird” of yours. I really would’ve appreciated if you told us about that years ago. Perhaps you’d like to tell us what you know of the Thunderbird in the lab?”
Stein ordered rather than asked, pointing to the door for no more than a moment before continuing on his march to the basement. Frank and I filed in after them but I didn’t join them in the lab.
I looked around the house for Rocco but couldn’t find a trace. It wasn’t like him not to leave some trail of destruction in his wake. Well hidden or not, we usually found evidence of whatever he was up to but this time there was nothing. I had no clue where he’d gotten off to, maybe I was better off not knowing. After I gave up I joined the others in the basement, to their surprise I actually had decided to make an appearance. Frank and Stein were a little rattled at first but soon went back to their work. Tuck just beamed at me proudly, like he knew something I didn’t. We set about comparing notes on Shaoni, and separating fact from fiction based on Frank and Stein’s many years working with the supernatural. It was… nice, in a family bonding kind of way. Keith had brought us all together, gave these scientist a new problem to solve. Gave Tuck a chance for some kind of justice for the friends he’d lost in the mine collapse all those years ago. For me, he’d brought me together with the family I’d fallen in with. Strange as they were, this was my family, or at least the closest thing I had to it. I had to help, not just for Keith but for them. I’d been a burden, scared to go outside, hateful of what I could do despite using it to make life easier for myself. Worst of all I’d been stuck in my own head, I’d gone through awful things, done awful things, used my body and my charm to get through life. I’d been every bit as evil as Brooke had been to me. I did everything he’d done to me to others, only it was so much easier for me to do it. I hate myself for it, maybe I always would, but I couldn’t let that stop me now. I had to set all that aside and be there for the people in my life, I had to be a person again, not just hope everyone would treat me like one.

First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.

Part 1
First of all, I wanted to thank everyone for their kind words and support from the last post. A lot has happened since then, and a bunch of context is needed, so I hope you'll bear with me as I explain the details.
***
Back during the peak of the blinking crisis, I remember having a lot of difficulty sleeping. It was common for me to average only four or five hours a night, and the little sleep I did get was marred by terrible nightmares. One in particular recurred many times.
I was only eight, but somehow I was in the driver's seat of our family's old SUV. My arms were long enough to steady the wheel, but my legs didn't quite meet the pedals. It didn't matter though, since the car seemed content to continue on at a constant pace. I looked over and saw my mom in the passenger seat. Her face was a blurry likeness pieced together from the dozen or so picture's I'd seen of her over the years. I tried to bring her into focus, not only because I missed her dearly, but because she was speaking—pleading, even. She waved frantically at me, then brought her leg up and slammed it down on the floor mat several times. I didn't understand what had her so upset until she pointed out the front windshield, and I saw we were hurdling directly toward a giant tree that had fallen in the middle of the road.
Panicking, I stomped for the brake, but my seatbelt protested and pulled me back like an invigorated dog on a short leash. I sat up and tried clicking it off, but it wouldn't budge. My breaths became hollow cries, and I felt my heart beat against the bars of its bony prison. I grabbed the steering wheel and pulled it to the left, then right, attempting to swerve off the road, but it was as if whatever kind of glue was locking up the seatbelt was also fixing the steering wheel in place.
"Mom! what do I do!?" I yelled, tears streaming from my eyes. She was yelling back at me, but it was as if there was a divider between us, and neither of us could hear each other. I turned back just in time to see the giant Oak tree meet the front bumper, and then I jolted awake with a piercing pain in my chest that radiated up through my throat in the form of a giant scream. My little legs kicked under the covers and tears rained down on my pillow until my dad ran in and knelt at my bed.
"Lauren, are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"
I grabbed my pillow and hugged it so my face was covered, then effused a "Mmm-hmm" in a long wheeze while rocking to either side.
"Oh, honey," he soothed and brushed my hair, then the tears from my face when I would allow it.
Time would pass in silence, and when I began to get the sense that my dad was ready to leave, I'd chirp out, "stay" in that way children do when they're embarrassed about wanting something.
"Always," my dad would reply; then he'd post up on the floor with my large tomato plushie as a pillow.
One night in particular, it was deep in the night, and I had woken to a tapping sound outside my window. I was so afraid that a monster had snuck into my room while I wasn't looking that I made him lay next to me and face outward. I'd peek my eyes open every minute or so to check and make sure my dad was there, staking out the room. Eventually, he rolled in close and said something that I still remember to this day.
"Hey, baby, guess what." he whispered.
"Mmm" I mumbled.
"I think you scared the monster away."
I tried to picture this through the fog of my fatigue. Something seemed off about the statement, like it wasn't logically possible, but before I could piece together the words to express that, my dad cut back in.
"It was scared because it realized you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is?"
I shook my head, making sure to rub my forehead against his shoulder so he could sense it in the dark room.
"You're greatest power is that you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them. And there's all kinds of stories. Happy ones. Sad ones. Scary ones. Tell me, this monster you think snuck in, would you say he's part of a scary story?"
"I don't know," I said, confused. "Maybe"
"Hmm," he hummed, contemplating. "Well, I want you to remember this. You have the ability to tell any kind of story you want. Maybe there are monsters, but that means there's heroes and angels, too, right?"
I was beginning to doze off to the comforting sound of my dad's deep voice, but I gave another affirmative "Mm-hmm".
"So, if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story. A story that will bring you peace. Do you understand?"
But I was already out.
***
I woke up the next morning to the feeling that someone was in the hotel room with me. The drapes were drawn and the only sound was the AC unit blowing cold air, but when I looked toward the dark corner of the empty coat rack, my mind conjured the face of my dad, smiling at me, chanting that same, awful line—Oh, Lauren… you know who we are.
I was no longer a child, but it took a couple minutes of cold focus before I muscled the courage to ascend from the safety of my covers and flick on the lamp light. The small amber radius extended to where my dad's feet would have been if he was standing there. But there was no one. I let out a sigh and collapsed back onto the mattress, thinking back on all those years growing up. The same man who had helped me conquer my fear of the dark was now the monster hiding in its shadow.
I looked over my shoulder and saw the clock read 10:15. My meeting with Trent was in three hours. I moaned and stretched my arms back until they knocked against the headboard, then I collapsed back onto the mattress, meditating, gathering energy like a compressed spring. All at once, I jumped up and glided over to the drapes, opening them in a single, fluid motion. I grimaced at the sunlight, but the warmth felt good against my face. I stopped by the nightstand and gulped down the final few swigs of a bottle of Mello Yello that I had purchased from a vending machine the previous night, then undressed and hopped in the shower.
The warm water wasn't enough to wash away the previous night's memories. When I closed my eyes to lather my hair, I was back in my living room, standing opposite the demon that had taken on my dad's form. His smile. His laugh. It was like someone in my head was flipping a switch between the man I loved growing up and a terrible monster. But the fear was more powerful. I heard something drop onto the tile floor on the other side of the curtain. The noise made me gasp, and I opened my eyes while shampoo was still streaming down my face. I swiped the shampoo out of my now burning eyes and squinted at the curtain, trying to see through it, but I couldn't make anything out. "I-is anyone," I started, trembling, afraid to finish the sentence. I reached out and pinched the end of the curtain. My heart was in overdrive. I swallowed, then pulled it toward me and peeked out. I scanned the room, but I couldn't see anything out of place.
It wasn't until after I finished showering and wound myself up in one of the hotel's too-small towels that I saw what had made the noise. I bent down and picked up the stub of a razor blade that had fallen onto the tile right next to the puffy, gray shower rug. It wasn't mine, and I was pretty sure hotels didn't keep unguarded razor blades just laying around. When I held it up, it occurred to me that if it had simply fallen a few inches to the left, it would have been buried in the rug, and perhaps I would have stepped on it. I stared at myself in its steely reflection. Cold. Lonely. Small. What if I—was all I was able to think before the blade blinked out of my hand.
I threw on some clothes, packed up the few belongings I had into my purse, then checked out of my room. I didn't feel safe going back home after what happened, but I also didn't want to go anywhere else. I got in my car and drove aimlessly up and down the town's streets, focusing only on the car ahead of me. Anytime I started to travel down an avenue of thought, I'd make a turn, or speed up, or hit the brakes: anything to keep my mind distracted. It was sweltering outside, but I'd turn the heat on for minutes at a time until I felt drenched, then toggle max AC until I was cool, then back to heat. I repeated the basic driving tenet "10 and 2", "10 and 2", "10 and 2" like a mantra—a chant to focus my attention on a single point, and then I pictured that point disappearing. I began to think that maybe I wanted to disappear.
I fully intended to keep going that way until 1:00, but after about thirty minutes, my meandering route had led me to St. Mark's Catholic Church, where a large group of people were gathered around a long line of tables in front of the building. I slowed down. At the front of the venue was a large, white cardboard sign which read, "Plant a Seed, Share the Joy". I wasn't sure what that meant, but my boredom had come to a head, and I rationalized that if there's any place on God's green earth that would be safe, it was this one. I parked along the closest side-street, then walked over to the church.
Rows of white tables were covered with cardboard boxes filled with small plants that were wrapped up in individual paper pots. I watched from a distance as people behind the tables carefully removed the plants, one by one, and offered them to passersby. I continued down the line, a sheep in the herd, and allowed myself to sink into childhood memories. I had somehow made it out the other end near the Narthex when I heard a woman's voice call to me.
"Hey, deary, have you gotten one yet?"
I turned and saw a small, gray-haired lady with rose-colored glasses. "Oh, no," I started, attempting to decline, then paused. The old lady grabbed one of the plants and held it out for me.
"Here," she said. "Come on, I won't bite."
As far as you know, I thought, and stumbled forward with a sigh. "Thanks," I said and took the plant. "What is this all for, anyway?"
"It's a giveaway," the old woman responded. "Staff have been growing these plants—tomatoes and garlic, mainly—so they could offer them to members of the Parish. The idea is to have the members grow the produce, then donate it to St. Mark's Food Pantry to give to those in need."
"Oh, that's actually pretty cool." I replied and inspected my plant which was at present nothing more than a small green stem. "So which kind is this one?"
"That one is—" the old lady stopped and inspected the other plants near where she had grabbed mine—"tomato."
"Tomato," I repeated. "Well, thanks again."
"Of course, dear." the old lady beamed. "We're all responsible for each other."
I nodded, then continued back through the crowd toward my car when, through the large vestibule windows, I saw a Priest speaking to a young couple. It had been a little over a decade since I had attended a service (I stopped going during High School when I started studying other religions), and I didn't recognize this Priest. He was short (just over five feet tall), bald, and African American. He wore the customary black robe and white collar, and there was something in his smile and the way seemed to be affirming the couple that made me yearn to speak with him. I considered for a moment, a bit embarrassed to be stepping back into church after all this time, but the thought of being able to burn ten minutes talking with someone who might have some insight into my situation was too tempting to pass up.
I waited near a portrait of Mary Magdalene, my tomato plant in hand, staring off at the pristine series of stained glass images portraying the death and resurrection of Jesus. About a minute in, the Priest met my eyes; he smiled, his way of telling me he knew I was waiting, then finished up with the couple and made his way over. He had a bit of an accent when he spoke—it was Ugandan, from best I could tell—and a proclivity for laughing at the end of his sentences.
"Hello, Miss, I don't believe I've had the privilege," he said and held out his hand. He leaned in as he spoke, and his smile tugged on the corners of his eyes which were already marked with use.
I shook his hand and returned what I'm sure was a weak smile. "No, I don't think so. My name's Lauren. I used to come here when I was little. It's—been a while."
"Well, I see you picked a good day to visit. If you're into gardening, that is." He remarked with a laugh and gestured toward the plant. "It's nice to meet you, Lauren. My name's Martin—Father Martin, if you prefer."
"Father Martin," I repeated, "I have a friend named Martin. It's a good name."
He laughed and said, "Thank you, I'll pass that one along to my mother. She loves the praise."
I laughed back. He carried himself in such a carefree way that I was put immediately at ease. Almost to the point where I forgot what I wanted to talk to him about. "Um," I started, attempting to word my question in a way that didn't sound like I needed psychiatric help. "I have a couple of religious questions for you, if you have time."
"That's what I'm for. Ask away."
"They're about… miracles. Like the ones in the Bible. I was wondering, do you think that miracles still happen today?"
"Miracles, huh," he started. "You mean like water into wine?"
"Kind of, yeah,"
"Hmm…" he contemplated. "Well, I haven't seen them, myself. You know, I may be a Priest, but I also have a degree in Physics. I think God made the world according to laws, right? But I do think God has the power to intervene. Yes. I just have never seen it… like … you know, the biblical type of miracles. To me, there are miracles happening all around us—miracles we can't see."
"Exactly," I responded, thinking about how no one else could see the blinks, "those kinds of miracles. What are those miracles we can't see?"
One of Father Martin's eyebrows raised and he rubbed his chin. "Well, I think the greatest miracle is the miracle of God's love which was perfected in Christ and offered to each of us. It's his power to heal even the most troubled mind. By coming into alignment with God's will for us, we can see the true purpose of this existence."
No, he's not getting it, I thought. I scrambled to my other entry-point. "What about the story of Job? God made a bet with the Devil that Job would stay faithful to him no matter what the Devil did to him. Do you think that kind of situation is possible?"
Father Martin's expression drooped into a concerned frown. "There's quite the difference between miracles and the story of Job. I suppose I see what you're getting at, though. Job's suffering is in some ways the antithesis to positive miracles. In this life, we are tested, sometimes to the point of losing everything, but even that person who has more reason to hate God than anyone else can once again find peace and eternal happiness through faith. In fact, it's often the person who is lowest in the pit of suffering that needs the Light of Christ more than anyone else."
I thought back on the first night that I prayed. It was in my moment of greatest helplessness that I reached out to God, and I thought I had found my answer in Him. But now, after what happened last night, after all these years of chaos—not merely losing things that were important to me, but my very sanity—I needed more than just blind faith. I couldn't just sit idly by and hope things would get better. I smiled at the Priest and said, "Thank you, Father, this has been very insightful."
"Of course, sister. I'm sorry if I couldn't have been of more help."
"No, I think I understand now. I've been… wrestling with something, and I think God wants me to confront it. I think I've been running away and hiding from it for so long that I'd convinced myself it disappeared."
Father Martin nodded in understanding. "Well, in that case, will you let me leave you with a prayer?"
I was a bit taken off guard by the request, but I accepted. "Sure, Father."
I watched as he made the sign of the cross, then he lifted his hands and closed his eyes. "Dear God, I am so happy to have had the privilege of meeting with Lauren today, especially on a day such as this where we are offering gifts for those who need them. You have heard her desire to confront the things that are troubling her. I ask that you bless her with strength and peace and a clear conscience, that she may overcome these challenges. God, bless us with your spirit, that we may see your hand in our lives. Amen."
"Amen," I said.
As I was leaving, Father Martin called out to me and said, "Oh, just so you know, this Friday at 7 we are having a barbecue at the Parish Center. I would love to see you there, if you're able and wanting."
Turning back, I smiled and said, "Oh, ok, thanks Father. I'll think about it."
The priest nodded, and with a smile, he sent me off.
***
I walked into the Deli at 1:00 on the dot. The customers who had arrived for the lunch rush were already cleaning up their trash and heading out. I dodged past a few of them on my way down the long, narrow path leading to the front counter. While I waited behind a couple of elderly folk who were picking which soup they wanted to pair with their Ultimate Grilled Cheese, I looked around for Trent. He hadn't sent me a picture or any way of contacting him throughout the day, so I wasn't sure what I was looking for, but I figured I'd see some man half-hidden behind a newspaper, scouting me out. Maybe I watch too many movies, I thought.
"Ahem, ma'am. You're up." croaked the teenager behind the register.
"Oh, right, sorry" I replied and stepped up to the counter. "Uhh," I muttered, scanning the menu for something that looked edible. "Could I just get…" I made sure to mouth every syllable as they were words of their own.
"We have a deal—the try two combo. Sandwich and a soup for $9.99." the cashier repeated for what was probably the fiftieth time that day.
"Yes, that sounds good. I'll do the Italian sandwich and potato soup. And a drink, please."
After I paid for the food, I wandered around the tables, hoping to find someone who looked like a Trent. I was picturing a short guy, runner's build, with long brown hair, tucked somewhere neatly away in the corner. So I was not prepared when the Hulk's stunt double growled my name from a table smack dab in the middle of the restaurant. He had a pale, square face that was spotted with freckles and a sinking property that comes with the lethal combination of stress and age. His hair was relatively short. Probably it was brown or auburn, but since it was slicked back, it looked almost black. And he wore what looked like janitor coveralls. There was even a cloth tag pinned to his chest which read, "Trent".
"Lauren?" He repeated.
"Yes, that's me." I said and took a seat across from him. I saw a brown tray on the table in front of him, and on the tray was a large, white soup bowl. It was empty and beginning to crust along the edges. He must have been here for some time already. "I didn't know where you'd be, so I was worried we might miss each other. I'm glad you found me though." I said while looking over Trent more thoroughly. His large hands were stretched out in front of him on the table. He wasn't wearing a ring, so he probably wasn't married. And his face, it was stern. He seemed like a no-bullshit kind of guy. Then I saw his eyes. They were sapphire blue—probably the most stunning I'd ever seen.
"We only spoke on the internet, so I hope you don't mind, but I usually run a preliminary test on anyone I meet who claims to have abilities such as yours." Trent said while reaching into his pocket and removing a device that had the size and shape of an electric razor. "All you have to do is look into it. It takes maybe five seconds. Ten at most."
"Oh, um, sure," I said reluctantly. "Do I just—" I asked while reaching for the device.
Trent clicked a button and released the cylindrical head which opened, revealing a glass circle about the size of an iris. "I'll hold it, just look into the center. A red cross should appear, then it'll take the picture."
"Okay…" I replied and did as he instructed, leaning my head forward to look into the device. Sure enough, a red cross appeared. "Is it…" was all I got out before the light turned blue and I saw a gray fog disperse and billow throughout the inside of the tube, extending for what I perceived to be miles. My jaw went slack and I couldn't breathe for maybe five seconds. Then Trent reshuttered the device and turned it over.
"Damn, 72." He said with a hint of shock. "That's the highest I've scanned to date." He looked back at me, more relaxed now, and muttered to himself. "How have you been able to function for this long? At this level, you should basically be half in, half out."
I rubbed my forehead, feeling a mixture of pain and frustration and fatigue and impatience which all poured out at once. "Listen, Trent," I said as sternly as I could, "I came here because you said you knew what was wrong with me and that you could help me. I get you have to make sure I am who I said I am, but now it's your turn to pay up. How do I know you know anything about my condition? You said my mom might still be alive. What does that even mean? I saw her die right in front of me. I want answers."
I waited for Trent to respond, but he only lifted his head. I turned around and saw a girl holding a tray of food.
"Um, hi, sorry to interrupt. I have an order 36 for Lauren."
"Oh, yes, thank you." I said. The worker placed the tray down on the table in front of me, and when I saw the food, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. Trent must have also realized this, because he folded his arms and said, "go ahead and eat. I'll explain while you do."
I wanted to protest, but my salivating mouth made other plans. "Fine," I said. I grabbed the metal spoon off the tray and started on the soup, bracing against the steaming heat of the potato chunks.
As I ate, Trent moved all of the items on his tray off to the side, then he flipped the tray over so it was raised slightly off the table. He took his cup and placed it face down in the center, then he rolled up a few of his used, blue mayonnaise packets and charted a track across the tray.
"What are you doing?" I croaked out between bites.
Trent ignored me and continued by ripping up a napkin into strips and placing them alongside the mayonnaise packets. Finally, he snapped ten toothpicks in half and stuck them in the tomb of a dozen overlayed napkins. "It's your diorama," he said at last.
"It's my what?"
"From the story you sent me. Your diorama. When I read about it, it gave me a good idea of how to explain the 'blinking'."
I pointed at the cup in the center. "Is that supposed to be a pyramid? Because I'm pretty sure you're in the wrong geometric neighborhood with that one."
"It's an analogy," he said.
"Of an analogy," I quipped back.
"Look," he picked out one of the toothpicks and held it out in front of me. "This could be a person, an animal, a crowbar—whatever you want. The point is, this diorama is a stand in for our universe. This is everything that exists, that we can see. Okay?"
"Okay,"
"Now, me," Trent placed a hand over his heart. "I'm not in the diorama. I don't exist in the universe."
"In the universe where a cup is a pyramid, or the actual universe?" I said, unable to control myself.
Trent grimaced.
"Sorry, keep going. I get it."
"Things pop into," Trent threw the toothpick back onto the tray, "or out of," he picked the toothpick back up, "our universe at will, based on forces," he patted his chest again, "that exist in other realms" he gestured to the room, "that are connected to our universe," he tapped two fingers against the tray. "These things could be objects, like, say, a toothpick, or entities, like the one you encountered yesterday. The blinking experience that you described aligns with the typical experience of a moderate Antenna. That's what I call people like us—Antennas; because we can pick up on signals others can't."
"We—you mean you see the blinking, too?"
"Yes, but not to the same extent as you. If all the blinks are gathered in a giant picture that you can see, I'm traversing the image through binoculars, maybe even a microscope, depending on where we are."
I thought about this. I guess it was possible there were other people like me out there, but since I had never met anyone, I didn't really consider the idea until now. And then for him to say my ability was somehow much stronger than his… "But," I started, "I haven't even seen that many blinks since I was a child. It's just more focused and malicious now."
"Yeah," Trent scratched his head, "that's the thing that got me really interested in you. Somehow you seem to be able to control it without gear, just by praying. And, look, that's all well and good, but I don't want to give you the false impression that I'm some kind of religious leader. I like to look for logical, scientific explanations for things. So that's the frame I'm coming at this from."
I took a sip from my drink. "That's fine," I said, "the truth is that's why I reached out to you in the first place. I wanted an explanation I could understand. An explanation that was directly related to what I'm going through."
"Then we should get along just fine."
I was scooping out the last potato that was stubbornly gliding along the bottom of the bowl when, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of the old man from the line shooting up from his bench and standing in army-erect form. I felt a tingling sensation tickle the back of my neck. I didn't want to turn toward him. I knew what I'd see if I did. "Trent," I whispered, trying to tip him off.
"Huh?" he grunted. Then when he saw my expression, he snuck his right hand under the table and said, "Do you see it? Is it here?"
I cocked my head to the left, signaling toward the old man that was now facing us, but Trent didn't seem to notice him: his eyes just kept scanning the entire front of the restaurant. Then I saw the old man take a step in our direction.
"Lauuurennnn, oh Lauuuurennnn, I've been looking for you, Laurenn." The old man said in a low, gravelly voice that gave the impression he was gurgling liquid tar. I turned and saw his face. It was cold and expressionless, and a butter knife was poking out of his left fist. When I met his eyes, he smiled that horrible smile."You're a slippery bitch, you know that?" He spat. "Why can't you just stay put? Don't you get tired of running from your old friend? Or have you forgotten about me?"
"Trent," I mumbled out. "Right there."
"And this guy. You think he can help you? He's only here to help himself. If that's not clear, you really are a lost little lamb."
"Quick, give me your hand," Trent instructed.
I was silent, my eyes still pinned to the old man.
"Tsk-tsk-tsk," the demon possessed senior wagged his finger at me, taking a step, then another step, shortening the distance as much as he could while I was entranced. Then, suddenly, he sprinted forward at a speed that shouldn't have been possible for a man his age.
"Trent!" I screamed.
"Lauren, give me your hand!"
I spun around and grabbed Tren'ts outstretched arm just as the old man lifted the butter knife over his head like a pickaxe. Then I saw Trent pull out what looked like a toy gun from under the table and point it at the demon.
"Got you," Trent remarked. I braced for a gunshot, but there was no noise. After a couple seconds, I looked back and saw the old man sitting in the booth opposite his wife, his hand tremoring as he reached for his large drink.
"What did you?" I asked, but Trent was already pulling me out of my seat. "Come on, we have to go," he said, "the effect is temporary, he'll be—"
Before he could get out the last word, I saw the cup-pyramid on Trent's tray blink out of existence. The sound of a plate shattering rang out from a table up ahead. The lone woman standing there slowly turned around, smiling, with a fork in one hand and a piece of the broken plate in the other. Trent shot her with the toy gun as we ran past and then barreled through the front door.
"Where—are we going?" I asked between gasps.
"My van. It's loaded with kit."
"And then where?"
"Your house" replied Trent who stashed his gun back in his pocket and took out a key fob.
"My house? But that's where he—it appeared."
"Yeah, and that's where you banished it."
Trent waved me into the passenger seat of his RAM 3500 Promaster. I noticed right away the dash which looked more like it belonged in a new limited-edition EV than a cargo van. The ignition kicked on automatically, and I heard the beep of a sonar ping precede an English woman's voice calling out like some auxed-in GPS saying, "scanning for anomalies". Trent shifted the van into gear, and I heard the wheels sputter as we accelerated backward and whipped out of the small parking lot.
"What's your address?" Trent asked. I gave it to him, and then speaking to his dash, he said, "Car, take us to ****."
"Redirecting to ****," replied the British woman. "Currently detecting 31 novel emergences. Updating pings every 300 milliseconds. Chance of contact: 0.23%"
"What does that mean?" I asked.
"The van has sensor equipment which can detect blinks. It's much more accurate than either of us."
"And it sees 31?"
"Yes, that's not as many as it sounds." Trent said and tore past a car that blinked out of existence right as we turned onto the main street.
We drove on for another couple minutes, the Englishwoman updating the number of novel emergences every ten seconds or so. Her constant babbling eventually became a comforting background noise, and I was able to think again.
"In the message you sent me, you said my mom may still be alive." I looked at Trent to see if he would react to me bringing her up, but he remained stolid. "What did you mean by that?"
Trent thumbed his steering wheel. "I shouldn't have sent that." He said at last.
"Shouldn't have… What do you mean? You can't just say that now."
Trent took one hand off the wheel and turned toward me. "Look, we're going back to your house because we need to determine your origin point. All Antennas have them. It's a place of high energy where many realms intersect, kind of like a station, and it's the place where you first acquired your abilities. Based on everything you wrote, I'm guessing that place is where the forest where the accident happened when you were a young child. But I need to confirm it. Once I confirm that that's the place…" Trent hesitated.
"Then… what? You want us to go back there? To the place where my mom died, or at least where I think she died until you told me she might be alive but are now taking it back? That place?"
"It's the only way to—"
"Now detecting novel agent," the Englishwoman interrupted. We both perked up as she gave another update. "Net anomalies: 437. Novel Agents: 1. Chance of contact: 78%."
"Shit," Trent muttered. "Car, course correct."
"Attempting course correct to avoid collision. Attempts made: 10, 50, 75, 79… No alternate route detected. Chance of contact: 96%."
"Time until contact?"
"Time until contact: 13 seconds."
I shuddered. Looking out the front windshield, I saw cars pop out of existence left and right, opening up a clear path to the four way intersection ahead. In a blink, the streetlights all turned green, and then they vanished completely. It was as if the entire world was being stripped down bare, and all that remained was the road, boxed in by the rows of buildings along either side. In the distance I could see a large tanker barreling toward us.
"Trent,"
"I know," he replied and clicked a different button on the console which opened a new toggle for the shifter labeled "TD". He pushed the stick forward, engaging the new mode, then pressed the accelerator all the way to the ground. "You're going to want to hold on."
"What are you doing!?" I yelled, grabbing onto my seatbelt.
"No time to explain. Car, release phase lock."
"Phase lock released."
I watched in horror as the color drained from the road and buildings and sky, transforming it all into a dim tunnel, with only the headlights of the oncoming semi-truck visible up ahead. I had the sudden thought that this was all a dream, just like the ones from my childhood. I looked over and no longer saw Trent, but my mother. And then I realized this wasn't a dream. This was hell. I was being forced to relive the worst moment of my life, over and over again. Just when I thought I had escaped, I was pulled right back into that car, helpless as we approached but never arrived at our impending fate. I closed my eyes right as the lights engulfed the windshield and braced for the usual pain in my chest, for the feeling of breaking.
But it didn't come.
"Shift" was the last word out of Trent's mouth, and then I was infused with the sensation of being at the pinnacle of a roller coaster. I was suspended there for what felt like hours, but somehow I knew that not even a second had passed. Everything inside the van: the dashboard, windows, ceiling, doors, even Trent himself began to radiate enigmatic particles. They were a mass of constant motion, like raindrops falling through the air but never landing. I looked down at my hand, but it was gone. Diffused into an unknowable number of untraceable particles. The world outside, once devoid of color, was now nothing but color. When I tried to focus on a particular spot in the infinite geometric folds of whatever realm we were traversing through, I could sometimes detect a trace of our world.
The old lady from the church. She appeared as if through a window, standing behind a table, holding out a plant. Only this image was so much brighter. And the plant she was holding was pure gold. Then I'd catch a glimpse of the razor blade. It was large, many hundreds of times larger than the van, and surrounded by darkness. These ghostly images appeared like holograms or reflections that caught the light at just the right angle, then dissipated.
I stayed there, looping between the archetypes of my life for a long, long time.
***
I knew we were returning when I felt the first sense of motion. Breath filled my lungs for the first time in what felt like a day. I blinked. And then we were back in town, driving down the same road with the blue sky above. People were jogging on the sidewalk past the little street shops. The streetlights were active. I checked the side mirror and saw the tanker had just passed by.
I looked over at Trent, who met my eyes. We shared a look of knowing, and unknowing. For some reason, that was enough, and we continued on in silence.
***
We agreed to stay the night at my house.
Trent had parked a couple blocks away in front of a couple vacant houses so as not to arouse suspicion from the neighbors. Then he lugged a large duffel bag with his equipment in and set it up in the living room. He scanned the scrapbook which contained the newspaper clippings from the accident several times and confirmed that was likely my 'origin point'. I simply nodded and then went back out onto the back porch. I sat there for hours, basking in the sun. Something had changed in the past day, but I couldn't pick out what it was. Too much had happened. I had too little time to process any of it.
When the sun set, I went inside and Trent told me about his plans for the next couple days. He said he needed to run a few errands in the morning, then meet up with a couple of his associates. After that, we could begin our drive to Southern Illinois. He said it was likely that the entity that was chasing me had first tied itself to me during my childhood accident. For whatever reason, we came into contact, and now it didn't want to leave. Trent would help me get rid of it. He didn't go into many details regarding how that was to happen, but I don't think in my tired state I would have been able to understand much anyway. He had a plan, and that was enough for me. At least for a while.
After our meeting, I made sure Trent had enough pillows and blankets like a proper host, then I retired to my room. I laid down on my twin bed and stared up at the cream-colored ceiling. Then I turned and saw the participation awards for my junior soccer league stashed on my dresser. I pictured myself on the field, running with the ball, out ahead of everyone except the goalie. I took a shot, but it was blocked. Then I ran back to defend. How can such a simple game be so much fun? Was the last thought I had before drifting off to sleep.
I woke up only once during the night. It was still dark out. The room was warm despite the small, flower petal fan churning away, shifting the hot, humid air from one pocket of the room to the next. I waited in apprehension, sensing that something had disturbed me. I saw the tomato plushie peeking out at me from the slightly ajar closet door where I had stashed it so many years ago. I felt like I was missing something. Something important.
And then I heard it.
There was a tapping at my window.

Sylvia https://imgur.com/gallery/GK6ShZQ

Sylvia Rhodes

"One whom strives is one whom succeeds.."

Age: 15
Birthday: August 22, 2024
Godrent: Triton , Leiutenant of the sea..
Identity: Female (she/her), straight ally

Appearance:

Ebony skin, she always wears her hair in fashionable dreads with silver beads strewn through it. Heterechromia: One bright blue eye and one interestingly red-pink eye. No one can explain where it comes from. She has a scar down, diagonal, through her red-pink eye, she covers it with makeup often. Sylvia has snakebite piercings on either side of her bottom lip, that she switches out for shiny metals often, as if changing clothes. Her hair kind of moves like water.

Personality:

Bratty rich girl - She gets what she wants, doesn't matter how she has to achieve it. If she wants it, it's her's. She gets angry easily and is good when it comes to manipulation and playing the victim. She's a bully, you're different? Weirdo. Kind of bully.

Family:

Kira Rhodes: mother, famous model and ex-olympic swimmer, gives her daughter whatever she wants, 39
Triton: father, never met him, hopes he's cool (and possibly hopes he'll give her something if they ever reunite), Greek god
Naomi Rhodes: Kira's wife, stepmom, spoils Sylvia as well, 35, filmstar
Cerberus: her little black lab puppy, 3 months old, not the actual cerberus

Powers:

Weapons:

Trident - "it's pretty and practical, okay, darling?" High heel - "look, they're always there. It makes sense."

Background...

Sylvia was 13 when her mother had to tell her the truth, who her father was.
Sylvia had, unironically, drenched a saleswoman in water from the mall fountain when the woman tried to touch her. Of course; Sylvia doesn't like that. No permission? No access. That's how she works. So of course she did not take kindly to a 'lowly salesperson' grabbing her 3,000 dollar faux-fur jacket.
When her mother explained everything, it seemed that everyone was in the loop. Her mom, her maid, her stepmom, everyone but her. But whatever.
Sylvia was born on one of the Caribbean islands and her and her mother moved to California when her mom stopped representing the Bahamas in the Olympics. That was when her mom's job took off like a rocket. And there she was, the rich, pretty, smart, popular girl at school who came from abroad (or about abroad at it can bs counted) and whose mom(s) were famous. Everyone wanted to be her, or with her, or something like that.
When she was 12, she'd gotten into a bad accident resulting in her scar. And she's ashamed of it.
Then, one of those 'stupid dog penguins' attacked Sylvia while she was at a beach party her school was hosting. Then her moms whisked her away to camp, where she was left to, as she put it, shrivel up and die.

Present...

Sylvia stood at the edge of camp, wearing her baby blue tank-top crop-top and gray jeans with her (3,000 dollar) faux-fur jacket. Her blue heels weren't sinking in the dirt, yet.
She flicks her dreads over her shoulder and starts to walk into camp, standing tall and walking proud. Her while suitcases were all attached to eachother aside from her purse, which hung from her shoulder whilst she dragged the suitcases. She was not happy about this, but atleast her parents allowed her to pack whatever she wished.
So now she made her way down the hill, her silver ring shimmering with a seafoam green sheen. Of course, her Trident was hidden within it.

This is going to be long, sorry about that.
Hi, so I, a male (27), I have to put the reality that I have a bulged disc and have to to rest for 2 months while I get back to normal; with the assistance of physical therapist, medicine, and rest/ stretches. I have told my family but well they said “you still have to pull your weight” but that pain is an 11/10 after a while. I’m doing better now as I’m able to stand and walk longer; sitting takes its toll still. But they really don’t like me to rest. My mom (F, 52) advocates to go against PT advice and well she did that and now she has a calcified herniated disc due to her stubbornness; she didn’t want to listen to her own PT’s advice.
So my family takes these stray pregnant cat into the apartment. We noticed she has a flea collar and looked clean; but she could have been out there for months or weeks. And well the stray actually gave birth that same day. So that great right? Well on the 3rd day of having her; we were Looking for 2 kittens that ran around and we found them. However, my mom hears the dog howling downstairs and is like “if you go down there, bring him up, my poor dog is losing it”. The dog is a chihuahua / Yorkie mix that clearly has separation anxiety. So I go down there, take a break while they are upstairs and raise my legs cause pain started coming. I bring the dog back up because well she said “they’ve brought the dogs up and it’s went well”. So I bring the dog up, struggling, but I do it (I’m using a cane). We had a gate that would keep the stray in a room. As I get there, my sister (F, 25) is next to the gate. My mom says “let him down”, to which I do. The stray hears that and my sister to slow to react, being next to the gate allows the cat to shove the gate and goes for my dog. I jump into action and try holding the cat down with my arm cause well, it’s my dog; had him since a puppy for crying out loud. And I saw her stance, we own cats (for years), stray was getting ready to jump and attack my dog, so I had to jump. But remember I have a bulged disc on my right side. So I jump and she leaves me with 4 bites; deep hole in my wrist and forearm and a bunch of scratches. I mean seeing that on my body, I’ve never been so enraged. The damage was insane and that happened like 12:45-1pm. But I got up; hurting up my progress for my disc and my arm beat with holes; both on my right side, mind you. My sister and mother tell me told me to leave and didn’t thank me for preventing another attack on my dog. I went downstairs trying to calm down. My mom tried to remedy it to gain sympathy and I’m like “kick the stray out or once the babies are good, kick her out”. I felt like reprimanding the stray for how she left my body and hurt my dog. I was trying to calm down and my mother decided to blast music and I’m like “can you turn it off for a few minutes? I’m trying to calm down”. She respond with “No I want some noise, some music”. I responded with “or call animal control cause I’m going up there for quietness, it was that loud. She’s like “no and says I’ll call the police on you if you go up there”. I’m like “call them, I just took a photo of my arm and it’s time stamped before you call them because she is a stray”. I go there and just drop on the bed but my sister and mom were telling me to leave. It doesn’t stop bleeding so I call my GF (F 25) because she has had cats and dogs and saved strays too. And she also agree that if she attacked once. She agrees I did the right thing to protect my dogs and I confided in her in how I wanted to reprimand the cat because my family told me to the leave the room and didn’t help me calm down. My GF advised that I got to the ER after I told her the situation to get my rabies shot. So I went, as I’m there my bulged disc starts hurting like crazy. I try using multiple chairs to elevate my legs to reduce the pain but pain is like 8/10. I had to do scans for an x-ray and my arm I notice is still squirting and oozing and entry bite wounds are black, my wrist is swollen to the point gravity hurts it; I honestly felt like crying; back is now 8/10 in pain and wrist 9/10. The radiologist made me do poses that were uncomfortable and hurt like crazy. They do a bl$&d analysis and are like “we think we’re gonna give you antibiotics and re-administer some vaccines cause that stray looks like it had something in its bites, as determined from the entry wounds. The swelling was also another worrisome thing about it, so they gave 3 Tylenols, tetanus shot, rabies shot, and 4 antibiotics for each wound. They were painful and I had gone through so much pain for the day, I could barely walk home at this point and felt like my right arm and leg were gonna fall off my body. At this time I realized my family didn’t even offer to help me. When I got home I needed to raise my legs for a few minutes and didn’t want to be in their vicinity. As I’m still letting that help me, my sister is like “Hi, scoot over, my drink is here” and I’m like “There is an empty sofa over there?” And she says “is it even that bad?” referring to my right wrist and forearm injury from the stray. I’m like “no shit, if I got 8-9 shots, now give me a minute, I’ll move soon”. She’s like “well I want to sit here”. I’m like “how about you check on the stray you sided with while I protected our dog? And stop being a d@$&head” And she makes the excuse “she stopped or was gonna stop!” And she said “you didn’t have to stop her”. I’m like “I did something you both weren’t going to do or were to slow to do and I needed to protect our dog” and her response is “who’s gonna protect her?”. My mom smiling and laughing and I’m like “I protect our dog and not even a thank you, Screw it”. And I continued with “yall didn’t really care if I was okay not even to help”. Luckily my GF was on the phone hearing everything and as I’m talking her to make me feel less alone, my mom blasts the music on purpose so I couldn’t hear her or her me but I had earphones with a mic. We concluded that it was best to Alienate myself from my family. AITA for trying to remove the cats?
Update 1: So it’s been a week since I wrote this. We tried to have someone from a none-profit organization to collect the kittens cause the living environment that my family has them in includes housing them in a location that can be taken at anytime. Feeding them from 3-6 hours, not picking up the feces or fecal matter. We tried talking to them the day before about surrendering the cats. So I wouldn’t have to call animal control and go straight to a caring resource. My family threatened to destroy my property and things, including kicking me out to an unstable apartment or throwing my stuff out, if I didn’t return the cats. I ended up crying in the middle of a train station with my GF and made a compromise to keep my stuff until I move it to storage (like my family wanted) and live with my family once I returned the cats. So I comprised and brought the cats back.
Update 2: it’s been 2 weeks and now my family wants me to leave, even though they have the cats. And that I need to go but I don’t have anywhere to officially go. Do you have any words for my situation?

How can we stop going around in circles with these corrupted nihilists? (basically an extreme religious-nut but in reverse; no meaning, no value, no good/bad, nothing matters) I've compiled some of my thoughts/comments.

But first If you are not caught up yet:
1 Re: Vegan Gains ...The Militant Vegan Raffaela Interview - (May 12, 2024)
2 Vegan Gains is a sub-Jerkivest [5/11/24]
3 Moral Realism Debate w/ Inmendham - (May 16, 2024)
4 WTF #899: The vegan gains debate ... Value realism - (May 19, 2024)
5 Vegan Gains ...Denialism is the only nihilism [5/19/24]
also saw this Controversial Topics with Vegan Gains (Horse Riding, Bivalves, Depression, and much more!) - (May 11, 2024) ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ (he thinks in terms of some dogmatic religious brain-rot morality source of right/wrong, but a kind of reversed/opposite conclusion of it's absence, nihilism)
the very reason religion was invented in the first place was because humans by nature had a value-engine driving them & NEED for meaning, that's the irony. value gave rise to religion, religion never needed to grant value. The fact people can't grasp this. 🤦 ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎

Now onto the various arguments, sorry how long and out of order it is But the idea is to provoke you coming up with better ideas/arguments, and if you can critic and strenghen my and ultimately inmendham's arguments. The GOAL should be to Create a formal argument AKA a syllogism, modus ponens. Something clear and concise that can't be taken out of context or misinterpreted, as happened with the debate...

On the subject of Efilism, tread lightly, the philosophy and argument extends beyond merely focusing on suffering; it also includes the critical issue of consent violation. Its proponent and creator, Inmendham, argues for value realism, which contrasts starkly with the notion of subjective morality which I find illogical. While objective morality is full of baggage... often linked to outdated religious doctrine so on face value it's not fun or easy subject to broach... many contemporary non-religious ethicists ground it in realism. Personally me, inmendham and others see no use for the term "morality" as it's tainted. value-realism is the subject. Is it a value-laden universe or not?
it is not necessary to call TRUE/REAL right or wrong Objective, because if objective is defined as mind-independent than without minds there's nothing right/wrong to happen to, therefore THE discussion should be just regarding what is TRUE or NOT, subjective doesn't necessarily mean mere contrived opinion or preference but can be logical conclusion, e.g. you can conclude 2 + 2 = 4 as we understand these concepts of numbers to model reality but can you call it objective or mind-independent 2 + 2 = 4, or that math exists? Not really. As you require a modeler to model reality, an observer to make the observation, a mind to come to such accurate conclusions. To me, claiming there is no real right or wrong is akin to asserting that moral standards and ultimately the subject of Ethics is as fictitious as religion or Santa Claus, you just believe it cause you want to or have preference to. Why maintain this pretense if it's all a mere fabrication / contrivance?
Regarding subjective judgments such as determining "What's the tastiest potato chip or the most beautiful painting?", these are not factual assessments about the things themselves, The question itself is misleading, because the thing itself has none of those qualities objectively, Instead, such qualities are OUTPUTs generated by the interaction of our bodies and minds with these INPUT items, the input is quite arbitrary/irrelevant, unlike the highly meaningful & distinct output generated of positive or negative experiences. You might get off more on certain female body part than another, it doesn't matter, the output positives & negatives is more or less same among individuals and that's what's relevant... not what specific fun or hobby gets you or them off or pushes their buttons.
It can be TRUE that a certain food item is the tastiest to that personal individual, or gross to another, and we can talk about intersubjective truths with averages overall. But one's experience of what is tastiest for them doesn't contradict another's, they can both be true for them individually, as you are likely not even sharing the same exact experiences to judge differently. And one's very perception or framing of the experience changes the experience itself, no way around this truth. Some people find bricks tasty or edible, just how their brain is wired.
It's important to recognize that differing opinions of personal taste do not inherently conflict in the way ethical contradictions do. With ethical matters, asserting that two diametrically opposed views are equally valid is problematic, either one is right and the other wrong, or both might be based on flawed reasoning. Pretending 2 opposing ethical views can be both equally right/true/correct is utter contradictory mush, either one of them must be right / wrong, or both are contrived meaningless nothing opinions, just made up. you wouldn't say whether one believes in god or not IS mere personal opinion/preference and such 2 opposing views can be equally right at same time, that's utter contradictory nonsense, by saying 2 opinions that gRAPE is both good & bad at same time are equally right opinons, right loses all meaning and you might as well say neither is right and both are wrong, they each have their own contrived fairytale delusion.
Now with Ethics of right / wrong, it does not depend on one single individual's preference or opinion, but taken as the whole, if you violate one without consent you still have to account for that since you are seemingly putting the weight on the preference otherwise preferences are utterly meaningless and irrelevant.
ALSO, Do you call whatever you prefer what's right, or do you prefer to try to do what is right?
Do you prefer to seek out what is the right most accurate conclusion given all the facts of reality, or contrive right to be what's in your preference/interest or personal gain?
I don't think VG or most these talking heads understand value-realism (problematic events within subjectivity/a non-physical but REAL reality of the mind). Obviously there's no objective divine or otherwise prime-directive moral-rules we must follow. Unfortunately Religion has poisened the conversation so much with archaic ideas and mushy terms like 'Morality'. Understand there is no 'moral truth', let alone an objective one, ofc if you pigeon-hole me or all realists into defending such nonsense it's easy to refute them. What I'm interested in is subject of Ethics, and to start whether or not value/problematic events exist or do not exist.
Here's a silly question by nihilists: "why is suffering bad?"
Response: How do you identify suffering? Based on the fact that it feels bad. (Yes subjectively) Just as we can subjectively understand 2+2 = 4
Or this: "prove suffering bad, objectively"
Also question-begging, obviously it is subjective. If such badness cannot exist mind-independently by definition.
"Prove suffering is bad, objectively"
is begging the question, because...
It strawmans / assumes the badness must be bad mind-independently, it isn't therefore, it isn't bad.
Answer this, evolutionarily do animals PERCEIVE being tortured skinned alive nail in the eye as BAD, or does it impose torture which we RECOGNIZE and define as Bad by definition?
If true PAIN/torture isn't bad then why does it exist evolutionarily? Answer: (problem -> solution) mechanism which functions as ability to learn & improved survival, this mechanism was reinforced over time as it worked.
inmendham & realists like myself argue: it is the case Descriptively, Objectively evolution IMPOSED Prescriptive-value-judgements onto animals which function as a learning/problem solving mechanism. Fact is, the invention of 'PROBLEM' is something I/we/animals had nothing to do with... (no-free-will-choice) but are simply byproduct in observation of this fact.
If real PROBLEM(s) didn't truly exist then Arguably the word and conceptual understanding it points 👉 to wouldn't exist either. As if beings could be truly blind never seeing colors/vision yet pulling the idea out of thin air and conceiving of such a thing, how preposterous, that'd be giving human creativity/imagination way too much credit. The only nihilist argument then is that by evolution we & all feeling organisms are somehow ultimately deluded or have illusion of problem where there is none, which I find deeply implausible. Run the torture study/experiment a million times putting people's arm in the fire "yep still bad". Filtering out people who lack ability to feel pain of course.
As evolutionary biologists even states pain is a message to the animal "don't do that again". Can't get descriptively prescriptive more than that.
Are You Getting It?
The Ought is literally baked in as an IS. The is-ought gap to be bridged is a complete Red-Herring, yes you can't derive an Ought from an IS, because if you oughtn't do something, then it can never be BAD... problematic/BAD/torture can't mean anything if it doesn't scream OUGHT-not.
All you have to agree to is due to evolution it created torture which is decidedly negative/ inherently BAD, by definition. Otherwise it wouldn't feel bad or be torturous at all... THEN ask yourself, how can something be BAD yet it's not BAD to create that BAD?
This is Checkmate. These are irrefutable Facts & Logical deductions.
So much for it all being false-perception, the very fact placebo patients perceive an otherwise harmless laser as BAD/painful makes it so. It's the TRUE reality in their mind and you can't deny that fact. It's also a fact believing a pain isn't really all that bad can make it so, but this doesn't make these value-laden experiences NOT real/true.
As per evolution, your body/brain's mechanisms must generate & impose a prescriptive-value-judgement / problematic event within your mind,
It's nagging, complaining, telling you keeping your hand on the hot stove is a mistake/problematic/bad. (not in itself but as a consequence)
I believe this brain making me write all this... is making an accurate assessment when it observe certain events to be problematic/bad where it's happening which is within subjectivity, where's your evidence my perceptions are fooling me or I'm somehow deluded? I witnessed the crime take place and you were nowhere near the crime scene yet you have the authority to claim otherwise as fact? (You are not simply agnostic to my problem suffering but a De-nihilist)
Once one accepts this evolutionary fact we can move on to more complicated questions regarding ethics, like how do weigh the good & the bad, conflicting preferences, etc. Otherwise, it's all pointless & futile, like arguing bivalves or wild-suffering with a non-vegan. They're just not on that level yet and it's a waste of time.
revised version of my other comment: I believe that many discussions around morality miss a crucial point about value-realism, which acknowledges problematic events within subjectivity, a non-physical but real reality of the mind. It is evident that there are no objective, divine, or prime-directive moral rules we must follow. Unfortunately, religion has muddied the conversation with archaic ideas and terms like 'morality'.
There is no 'moral truth,' especially not an objective one. If critics pigeonhole realists into defending such notions, it becomes easy to refute them. My interest lies in ethics and whether value/problematic events exist.
Consider this question by nihilists: "Why is suffering bad?"
Response: Suffering is identified because it feels bad, subjectively. Just as we subjectively understand 2+2=4, we can recognize suffering through its unpleasant experience.
When asked to "prove suffering is bad, objectively," this is question-begging, as the question assumes that the badness must exist independently of minds, which it does not by definition. This question straw-mans the issue by requiring mind-independent badness, ignoring the subjective nature of suffering. As if the quality of it being BAD must be granted by something outside the experience itself.
Evolutionary Perspective: Animals perceive and react to torture (e.g., being skinned alive) as bad because evolution has imposed mechanisms that signal harm. Pain serves as a problem-solving mechanism, reinforcing behaviors that enhance survival. If pain and suffering weren't inherently problematic, they wouldn’t exist in the form they do.
Realists like myself argue that evolution has objectively imposed prescriptive-value judgments on animals. The concept of 'problem' or 'bad' arises from these evolutionary mechanisms, not from free will. The existence of these concepts indicates the reality of these problematic experiences.
If real problems didn’t exist, neither would the concepts describing them. This is akin to how beings blind from birth wouldn’t conceive of color. Suggesting that evolutionary processes have universally deluded all feeling organisms into perceiving problems where there are none is implausible.
As evolutionary biologists state, pain signals to the animal, "don't do that again," which is descriptively prescriptive. The 'ought' is embedded within the 'is.' Thus, the is-ought gap is a red herring because prescriptive judgments are evolutionarily ingrained.
Again, How do you identify suffering? Based on the fact that it feels bad. (Yes subjectively) Just as we can subjectively understand 2+2 = 4
All you have to agree to is due to evolution it created torture which is decidedly negative/ inherently BAD, by definition. Otherwise it wouldn't feel bad or be torturous at all... THEN ask yourself, how can something be BAD yet it's not BAD to create that BAD?
Conclusion: By acknowledging that evolution created inherently negative experiences like torture, we accept that these experiences are bad by definition. Denying the badness of creating bad experiences is contradictory. Therefore, once recognizing the true reality of subjective experiences, only then we can move on to complex ethical questions about weighing good and bad and addressing conflicting preferences.
playing devil's advocate let's try Steelman their position and then arrive at the logical conclusions of it and then perhaps refute it. If they say: "veganism = right" realize there is no contradiction IF by 'right' they just mean it's literally nothing but their preference...
There's no goal to prefer to know/do what's right, RATHER what's right is whatever matches our personal preferences, so unlike flat earther vs round earth beliefs/CLAIMs which can contradict/conflict with each other since either 1 is right or both are wrong. Individual tastes don't.
Whereas if VG says 9 people gRAPE the 1 kid for fun is WRONG because he's a threshold-deontologist but Also RIGHT to a hedonistic utilitarian, Those views only contradict/conflict if they are making VALUE-claims or recognizing a problematic event take place. However, with VG apparently he would have to say he's not claiming or labelling anything as TRULY problematic at all but merely describing his preferences like flavor of ice cream...
Now, of course, as the realist, I find such a view more deplorable/worse than if they were merely agnostic on right/wrong. Cause it's one thing to say there's a right answer to questions of Ethics but we have no objective scientific basis to determine it yet or lack knowledge VS saying they have knowledge there is absolutely no right or wrong.
Under Anti-realism nihilism, what they mean by wrong/right, is just their preference, if I understand correctly (which I'm quite sure) Anti-realism nihilism reduces the Subject of Ethics down to nothing but you or someone else pontificating/opining (i.e "me no like torture") . It defends some sort of expressivism, emotivism, normative, prescriptive reduction of Ethics. Which I find lubricious and has to be a mistake,
I don't see anyone playing any different game even the nihilists invest their money and plan ahead for self-interest, no one truly signs up for torture for fun like it's no problem, and runs away from pleasure happiness as bad. Further, it stands to reason... since we can recognize objectively evolution created a punishment mechanism to enforce learning and survival, BAD/PROBLEM as a concept is something I/WE/Animals had nothing to do with. We didn't invent it, we recognize it and respond accordingly. Even evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins stated that pain is a message to the organism 'don't do that again!'
We must address further the flawed logic of VG and other nihilists reducing Ethics down to mere arbitrary preferences like potato chip flavor, or how much salt you prefer in the soup. As it is completely disanalogous & dishonest upon reflection. QUOTE: "There's no arguing against Efilism, it's just personal opinion. Like arguing what tastes better... ice-cream or potato chips?"
Say if you believe that the mona-lisa is beautiful, and I personally find it ugly, this conflicts/contradicts nothing because it claims nothing in terms about that object or reality outside of our own minds.
such qualities are OUTPUTs generated by body/mind from these INPUTs, the input is quite arbitrary/irrelevant, unlike the highly meaningful & distinct output generated of positive or negative experiences.
it doesn't matter what specific fun or hobby gets them off or pushes their buttons in order for it MATTER, those differences don't make it any less real OR all mere subjective opinion. the output positives & negatives is more or less same among individuals and that's what's relevant...
It can be TRUE that a certain food item is the tastiest to some personal individual, or gross to another, one's experience of what is tastiest for them doesn't contradict another's, they can both be true for them individually because it is the reality in their mind, Some people find bricks tasty or edible, just how their brain is wired.
while one person may find a certain food delicious, another may find it repulsive, without invalidating each other's experiences because they are true for them individually. both experiences are valid/correct.
However, actions that disregard another's negative experience invalidate their reality. if you find being boiled alive problematic and I do it anyway believing it's ok, I am invalidating your experience as either not real, relevant, doesn't matter, or my preferences are more important (carry more weight) than yours. Or simply believe it's ALL equal or arbitrary and I just prefer to exploit you so I do that.
Positive or negative experiences are largely consistent among people, making them relevant, regardless of the specific stimuli. Individual truths about taste or preference coexist without contradiction, reflecting each person's value-generated reality.
This cannot honestly be applied to one's mere opinion it's fine to boil kids alive, as you are invalidating the fact that it matters to those victims. You saying it doesn't matter or your gain of pleasure outweighs their loss of pain, is a claim about the reality of events going on in their mind, so there is room for conflict/contradiction. They can't both be right/wrong at the exact same time.
A strong non-intuition argument/claim & facts presented render value-nihilism implausible:
It is Descriptively the case, that Evolution IMPOSED Prescriptive-ought statements... of 'PROBLEMATIC sensation/event' on organisms which functioned as a learning mechanism and improved survival.
Therefore, BAD/PROBLEM isn't mere subjective opinion but something I/we/animals had nothing to do with and are mere by-product reacting to an observation.
This is pretty much the only base-axiom needed to ground my own torture as mattering as the original actual value-currency at stake. That paired with the fact I sampled consciousness and know it matters to me whether or not I am tortured, the fact that I personally observe it as problematic makes it the true reality for my own mind...
...AND it's not mere opinion/proclamation / or idea humans creatively invented out of thin air... as if like everyone could be truly blind yet conceptualizing colovision, makes no sense. plus that's giving humanity way too much credit of imagination.
Can't really have thoughts about information that you don't have. The concept of bad/problem arguably wouldn't even exist if it never was so.
Yes, I agree very semantics. I am attempting to shed clarity on this topic. Looking at the word "BAD" purely in a descriptive sense (e.g., that which can be categorically applied to extreme suffering) it loses all meaning if it's not truly consequential (i.e., it matters whether one experiences bad or not). If it doesn't actually matter ("no problemo") then it can't be bad, only an illusion/delusion of it, yet it's an effective one evolution imposed on organisms as a learning/problem-solving mechanism. The value-realists like myself have every reason to believe evolution created the real thing, not some contrived pseudo-problem organisms feel compelled/obligated to solve.
One only requires the axiom of a Descriptive Bad to ground Ethics. Why? Because it can be argued that a descriptive statement of BAD/problem is prescriptive by it's very nature in the meaning the of word/language.(otherwise its psuedo-bad/fake langauge, redefines bad as aversion/mere preference against) Otherwise, it can't mean anything to be bad, torturously obnoxious, unwanted experiential events couldn't mean anything. Evolutionary biologist Richard Dawkins even state pain is a punishment signal/message to the animal: "Don't do that again!" If those aren't prescriptions imposed, then I don't know what is. The animal doesn't simply decide/prefer to avoid the event and finds it bad, it's told/finds it bad and so prefers to avoid the event/problem. If god or there were some logically or physically possible way it were to be invented how else would it exist?, or what you think evolution's reward & punishment mechanism accomplished? If it didn't synthesize problematic sensations to force organisms to solve?
Evolution prescribes Needs/wants, at the same time imposes a PAIN/PROBLEM of starvation/hunger which by it's very nature is a prescription for solution (i.e. sustenance/relief/comfort.)
By the very nature of "PROBLEM" it prescribes -> "SOLUTION" not merely a contrived or trivial-like on paper math problem, but the origin of why the word even exists: the problem of pain, a true whip/punishment mechanism, real currency to play with, real loss. Idk how you can describe something categorically as a PROBLEM in the true sense of the word if it doesn't come with it a necessary prescription for its solution. Because if there is no NEED for a solution, then it turns into no longer a problem again...
I don't see how it could be any other way because if there's no real game to be playing with value baked into it, then money would be worthless/not even exist, animals wouldn't bother evade standing in the fire, etc.
Saying It is Descriptively the case, that Evolution IMPOSED Prescriptive-ought statements... of 'PROBLEMATIC sensation/event' on organisms which functioned as a learning mechanism and improved survival.
Is the same as saying Evolution IMPOSED torture/BAD, as that's what torture/bad is... a prescribed need for solution to a problem which is some form of relief/comfort.
The prescription arises as a result of accepting step 1. (which nihilists reject/deny) problem solution. The latter does not follow/exist without the former. basic 2+2 = 4 logic. There's no point figuring out the answer to the math equation, if we don't agree first and foremost a problem exists. Nor how to solve a disease, if we don't first and foremost recognize a disease exists. And so, Any debate with nihilists on step 2: of determining what is the most likely solution / right answer becomes irrelevent and a waste of time. Arguing about whether x or y IS the right answer to fixing/preventing diabetes is pointless when they don't even agree the really disease exists. They don't believe an actual real BAD / Problem exists.
VG reduces it down to mere preferences, his reasonings that even if universally sentience prefers not suffebe tortured... Well, just because it is the case descriptively we prefer to avoid suffering doesn't mean we ought/should prevent suffering. He hasn't bridged the IS-OUGHT gap. But he got it backwards,
the claim/argument... ISN'T that because descriptively, sentience universally has a preference to avoid suffering, it is therefore bad,
the claim/argument... IS that it's descriptively bad/problematic, therefore universally there's a deductively logically assigned preference to avoid it,
Again you can't classify/label something as a problem if it's inconsequential whether it is solved or not. The word loses all meaning. If something NEEDs solving/fixing it means there's a problem, if there's a problem it means there's something NEED solving/fixing. Evolution manufactures these needy problems in organisms to manipulate and control them.
Merely what our preferences are IS NOT relevant, preference "frustration" arguably IS. (if preferences couldn't be frustrated "i.e., no value" than it wouldn't matter which way things turned out)
You can have a preference for some art style over another, if we were just programmed non-feeling robots that preferred to avoid standing in the fire, but there was no real kernel of value/bad, then it wouldn't matter.
Let's imagine something was Objectively PROBLEMATIC, an IS statement. What would a real problem look like? something in NEED of a solution. Again, why? because If it doesn't matter whether or not it exists or is Solved or not, it could never be a problem in the first place. So either this problem exists or it doesn't. (NOTE: it doesn't need to be an objective problem to be REAL, "i.e mind-independent")
Next, if ASI or sentient beings were to sample this "problem", would it not be the case they would logically deduce it's in need of a solution? And assign their preferences accordingly to solving it? Cause again otherwise then you just see it as "no-problemo" again.
"If Inmendham's argument is that sentient beings create value, and that the universe has no value without the presence of a sentient being generating it, would it not follow that the ought is inherently built into sensation?" yes but the way VG unfairly reframes it is that we subjectively place value on it, THAT it's entirely subjective, like you prefer salty or sweet, or certain ice cream flavor. emphasizing that it's entirely subjective opinion. Take a look at his unfair silly example: "we can't say pineapple on pizza is objectively tasty or not..." this shows a complete ineptitude in grasping the subject and misrepresenting the argument like crazy, no one is arguing whether Mona Lisa is objectively beautiful or some such thing.
What is being argued: the positive or negative mind-dependent event produced in response to the sensual or perceptual stimuli, the input (object) is irrelevant, only the output (experience) matters and what the value-engine (BRAIN) produced. What pushes your buttons so to speak, blue jelly beans or green jelly beans, could differ between 2 individuals but the shared experience is the same more or less. Whether you wired to find pineapple on pizza tasty or gross is irrelevant, some people find bricks edible.
Main issue is they talking past each other: what inmendham is arguing for was either not expressed as best it could be, and/or VG does not quite comprehend what is being argued... inmendham claims/argues evolution created the real bad/PROBLEM and we respond in recognition of this fact/truth with preferences that follow accordingly, Logic cannot be escaped, once you know 2+2 = 4, you can't will or believe it to be 79. If you know the right answer "torture be Bad M'kay?" obviously you won't act or behave otherwise and say you love it. What could it mean to have a preference against experiencing torture... does such a statement even make any sense? All that is required is a real BAD to exist... and then the preference to avoid it logically follows, an inescapable truth. Unless he thinks I also choose or prefer to believe 2+2 = 4 ?
Essentially VG keeps counter-arguing that: "yes we want to avoid torture, but that's just your preference... just cause universally sentience has a preference against torture (a Descriptive / IS statement) doesn't logically follow some Normative/Prescriptive claim/statement. That just because something IS the case it doesn't follow that we OUGHT / should do X, like help others, prevent suffering, etc. That's a non-sequitur he says. Ultimately it's just a preference." sure but...
His argument only applies/counters a strawman position in his head: Because of this I and other realists can account for / side-step it completely, we aren't attempting to derive an OUGHT from an IS. e.g strawman: "we ALL have preference against torture, Therefore it's BAD." Or "we ALL have preference against torture, Therefore we OUGHT prevent it"
The actual argument is that it's Truly Bad/Problematic by the very nature of the word, Therefore first-hand observation follows universally a deductively logically assigned preference to avoid it. Not the other way around.
"If the only thing that can have meaning in the universe is the experience of a sentient being, ought we not maximize its value just by nature of its experience being the only thing that can matter?" yes the ought is a further logical extension of recognizing it to be a problem, which denotes/demands a solution, otherwise if it doesn't matter to solve it or not then you've turned it into a non-problem again. So it can only be categorically one or the other.
Issue of semantics, different terminology and definitions: as long as VG defines objective as "mind-independent" and sets the goal-post to the realist to find a mind-independent "wrong/bad" as if somehow we need some divine-command or absolute rule in the universe that declares it so... then there is no fruit to the discussion. suffering/bad takes place in the mind/experience, so of course it's unfair to ask one to present a mind-independent suffering/bad in the universe, it is begging the question. To be fair inmendham uses the term objective and could have done better job with defining/pushing his terms "e.g. objective as truth/real/fact" and not let VG impose in his own. However, I don't ascribe a requirement to demonstrate an Objective BAD to ground a BAD as real, valid, and true; it can be entirely based on Subjectivist grounds/axiomatic foundations.
Just because the BAD takes place within subjectivity doesn't make it any less real (non-physical/immaterial sure... but not unreal). VG and nihilists can't understand this. 2+2 = 4 is subjective as is all science ultimately as a root axiomatic-fact... as an observation requires an observer. This doesn't mean realism can't be proven/grounded, it can just like we can know 2+2=4 and the moon exists. If anti-realism is gonna deny subjective truths because it's subjective, then one can't know much of anything and reduces to solipsism. I am more certain I exist and the reality of "perceived" BAD I experience is actually a real BAD... THAN that the moon even exists or any other scientific empirical claim.
PROBLEM is something I/we/animals had Nothing to do with, we didn't invent it.
If Anti-realism nihilism was True and Real "PROBLEMS" didn't exist the word wouldn't exist. It is like being born never knowing or seeing or experiencing vision & color, it's impossible to contrive or imagine it. Some knowledge & information is only accessible through experience.
Even Richard Dawkins stated, "pain is a message to the animal Don't do that again!"
If the ought exists within subjectivity, as preferences, why would them being Subjective vs Objective determine whether or not their violation matters? If one experiences disgust looking at something AND another finds beauty... both are true realities for them, they don't conflict or contradict like empirical or fact claims, but instead both are correct and relevant, not one or the other, BECAUSE when someone says the mona Lisa is beautiful they are just saying it arises in them a sense of beauty, the thing/input is irrelevant whereas the output in mind is what is relevant and true for their reality.
Subjective =/= not true, I don't understand the dichotomy between objective vs subjective ethics, as if there isn't facts to glean about subjectivity.
There's also definition or semantic problems:
objective (mind-independent) vs subjective (mind-dependent)
Under such definition does it make sense to say Objectively evolution created feeling experiencing organisms having sense of taste, smell, sound, hunger, pain, to survive. So can we apply word objective to mind-dependent experiences or not?
And of course under such definition there is no objective mind-independent ethics as without minds there is no feeling subject of concern to even talk about in first place. So how silly...
Yet they take objective to mean True & Subjective made up or mere contrived opinion.
For me these are semantic word games that distract, I just care about what's fact/true. What many don't get is Even science, math is subjective invention, byproduct of subjective tool of language, doesn't mean we can't create an accurate model and picture of reality.
I believe the Is-Ought gap is a red-herring, sure it's true you can't contrive an Ought from just what IS, but with evolution the OUGHT statement is built-in, it's descriptively a prescriptive value statement imposed on me, I/we/animals literally have nothing to do with it, I'm just by-product an observer. This is key understanding.
There exists no objective or divine commandment "you OUGHT do X" written into the fabric of reality, and therefore if you don't that's Bad, No. That's nonsense/impossible logically.
Rather an Descriptive IS statement of X is a real bad/PROBLEM, denotes/demands a solution by it's very nature of the word, otherwise if it doesn't need solving then it becomes into a non-problem again, so either x categorically IS a PROBLEM or it's not.
The claim/argument... Is that it's Descriptively BAD/Problematic, therefore universally there's a deductively logically assigned preference to avoid it. Not the other way around. Our personal preference against torture forever doesn't make it therefore bad. The prescription is built in, forced onto us.
It's like "STOP!" & "GO" What do you say to a dog? "BAD dog!" This is saying it should or shouldn't do something. basically = "No!" "Stop!" That's a prescriptive statement/signal/conveyed message.
Or simply, alls required is Descriptively diagnose Torture as Problematic. Which implies Problem Solution Without necessity of solution there is no problem at all, likewise without problem solution means nothing.
​So you essentially boiled my position down to: "Evolution programmed preference to avoid torture." or "we evolved preference to avoid torture" Does that sound incoherent or what... as if I would make such a silly claim. Keep straw-manning.
Do you think animals have PREFERENCE by default to avoid being tortured burned alive and have sex, or logically preferences are born out of observing problematic negative / positive assigned accordingly through punishment & reward mechanisms aka prescriptions, think long and hard about this one...
This is why value or ethical nihilism is incoherent to me. IF torture be bad, how can it be NOT-bad/neutral to create BAD?
It either is truly BAD or it isn't. It's either real or it's an illusion/delusion and false perception.
Their position must reduce to there is no MEANINGFUL difference between Torture & Bliss. And evolution didn't create any problematic sensation or true punishment whatsoever. Instead, were somehow deluded to view being boiling alive as problematic sensation/BAD, and relief as good, we can't tell the difference or label which is which...
Vegan Gains or any anti-realist needs to substantiate these anti-realist nihilist claims & concede if he agrees with the statements below:
"The value-laden problematic BAD experience of being tortured boiled alive in a vat of acid indefinitely... isn't really bad, evolution didn't successfully impose a real negative punishment mechanism on animals, torture isn't something I/we/animals had nothing to do with and are just byproduct observing the imposition, NO! Instead our opinion has everything to do with it... what's problematic torture, one is merely subjectively interpreting/inventing/proclaiming it to be so! Evolution failed!"
"Animals run from fire cause they irrationally unreasonably subjectively interpret it to be bad/problematic sensation or experience, not cause DNA molecule made it so objectively for evolutionary reasons"
"It is all subjective preference like flavor of potato chips, problematic torturous experience isn't bad you just think it's bad or have preference against it."
"You don't logically recognize intrinsic problematic torturous experience then logically assign solution to problem which is preference to avoid that experience, No, you merely have subjective delusional preference against a nail in your eye and there is no logic to it"
"Good is Bad, and Bad is Good depending on opinion, no right or wrong, all subjective tho"
value anti-realism nihilism. INSANE! WORSE than a flat-earth theory!

My phone vibrated. As did my smartwatch. I glimpsed up from my laptop, which was sitting in my lap so I could go over my presentation again. I was in the car, my boss was driving and we were headed to a conference, where both of us were supposed to speak. We were traveling for more than 7 hours now due to numerous traffic jams on our way.
Looking at my watch, I saw, it was the doorbell which caused the vibration. Already distracted from my presentation I pulled out my phone. Opening the doorbell app, I just so see, that my wife asks Becky, our young black dogsitter with her DD boobs into the house. "Curious" I thought, my wife hadn't told me, she wanted to go out that evening. It was a Tuesday, so it was her usual day for her Zumba class, but that would have meant leaving the dogs alone for about 1 and a half hours, so no need for a dogsitter. However, judging from what little I had seen, Becky was wearing an extremely short black latex skirt and a minimalist latex crop top, the full outfit barely covering her tits, ass and pussy. In addition to a black leather collar, it looked like my wife had ordered her in with other stuff in mind than just watching the dogs, even if there was the possibility, Becky's outfit was just due to the 30+ degree heatwave we were having.
A few minutes later, my phone vibrated again. It was a text from my wife. "Heading out to Zumba". She followed it up with a picture of her in her sports dress. Due to the heat she only wore tight short pants, a very tight revealing top and her sports bra. So her petite size combined with her chubby figure and her big tits were easy to spot. "Looking great" I answered. "Have fun, love you". "You have any plans later?" She asked. "No" I answered. "I won't be able to make it to swimming today. I'm not even at the hotel yet. So just dinner with my boss and then I will head for the bed." I replied. "Ok" was the only answer I got.
My boss and I checked into the hotel and found a place to eat, when I got another message from my wife. It was a shower selfie from the gym, showing her having her tits soaped up. I had to make sure, nobody saw my developing boner below a napkin. And this was also unusual, as my wife normally prefers to shower at home. What did she have planned. "Going out?" I asked her. I didn't get an answer for a while. Then I got another selfie. My wife was now wearing a long, tight, black PU skirt, and a black leather corsage, which was barely able to keep her G-Cups inside. She also had makeup on and her black hair with a tint of red worked perfectly with her black lipstick. A second picture showed, that she did not wear panties, but a buttplug. "Gonna surprise Becky" was her answer to my previous question. "Let's check whether she obeyed" was the next text I got, before I had an incoming videocall from the group my wife had created for the three of us. I excused myself from the table and left the table, while keeping the lid of my phone case closed. I took a Bluetooth headset out of my pocket and went outside to take the call. As soon as I did, I had to hold my breath. My wife held up her phone in her car in a way, that Becky and I had perfect view of her cleavage, while Becky was clearly sitting on our terrace, wearing the earlier described outfit, her legs spread apart and her camera clearly showing that she also had inserted a buttplug and additionally a vibrator in her pussy, pleasuring herself. From her position I could see, that there was a very slim, but not zero chance she could be seen by a passing neighbor. "Good girl" I heard my wife's voice. "Expect me home in 20 minutes. Keep going with the vibrator but do not come before I'm home or you will regret it". "Yes Madam" was Becky's answer. "Now put on a show for my husband" my wife again commanded. I watched the vibrator going in and out her pink pussy, which contrasted nicely with her chocolate skin, before commanding her, to take down her top, revealing her double D's to the camera (and potentially the neighbors). She was hesitant at first. "I will tell my wife of your disobedience" was all I had to say. However, as much as I loved the show, I could not watch it till the end, as my boss now also came out of the restaurant, having paid the bill. So I cut the connection and we went on our way to the hotel.
When we arrived at the hotel, my boss asked, whether we wanted to go for a drink at the bar. At the same time, my wife had already sent me a selfie with our car on the garage and her playing on her pussy, presumably watching Becky somehow. "Are you ready to watch" was the caption. So I thanked my boss again for the dinner and excused myself to my hotel room. "Give me a couple of minutes" was my answer to my wife. "Hurry up" she wrote, accompanied by a picture below her skirt, showing her pink pussy and her fluids already flowing down her legs. I quickly setup my tablet and connected it to the WIFI. While I was doing this I received several messages from my wife. The first one was a picture, showing a top view into her corsage, showing clearly, that it was unable to really tame her tits, with her areolas already visible. If a neighbor saw her on the way from the car to the house, he would have quite a look. I was secretly hoping for that to happen. I know some of the neighbors had already checked out Becky or other visitors to our house when they arrived in playtime "clothes" but my wife so far had mostly gone unnoticed by the neighbors. The second picture was a screenshot from one of our bedroom cameras on my wife's phone, showing Becky, lying on her back, her tits once again hidden by her latex top, her legs spread wide open towards the camera. Her skirt had moved upwards and was lying on her hips. The buttplug was replaced by a vibrator, and she also had a vibrator inserted into her pussy. I admired once again the contrast of her pink flesh to the dark chocolate color of her body. "I have the remotes" my wife wrote with a winking emoji. "Hurry up, I'm horny". "Me too" I thought, "and it's not helping that you send me these pictures". Finally I had an internet connection ready and connected onto our home VPN to access the cameras. "I'm in" I wrote to my wife. "Going in" was her answer.
While I waited for my wife to appear, I watched Becky on the tablet. She was still pretty much in the same pose as before and I could only imagine, that she was in this pose, because my wife had ordered her so. She really loved to submit herself to both of us, what made the evenings with her fun. Suddenly I could see her shiver and heard hear moans getting louder. I could see her fighting, but ultimately losing the fight against her orgasm, induced by the two vibrators in her pussy and ass, controlled by my wife. Only a few seconds later I hear high heels coming up the stairs and my wife entering the room. She had added black, knee high leather boots to her already seducing outfit and held a small whip in her hand. I saw Becky's eyes widen, it was a mixture of lust and fear. "You know you can tell me to stop at any time if it is too much," my wife said ."It is fine, I dreamed about playing with a whip, just haven't done it yet. But please be gentle, "was Becky's answer. "Did I stutter, when I told you not to come?" My wife now said in a fake angry voice. She followed it up with a lash onto her top and the boob below. I could hear the sound and I saw Becky flinch for a split-second. But her eyes told, that she was okay with what happened. "Sorry Madam. It was just to much pleasure you gave me with the vibrators," Becky whispered. "So now this is my fault you cannot control yourself?" My wife asked while still faking anger, followed by a lash onto the other boob. "No Madam, I did not obey your orders. What can I do to make it up?" "That will be up to me, I already have some ideas." My wife said to her, while she positioned a few whiplashes around Becky's pussy. You could already see the mixture of pain and lust in Becky's eyes.
From the messages before, and the show I got on camera my cock was already more than rock hard and I hurried to get rid off my pants and boxers, to release the pain this was causing me. That was when I realized, the blinds were still open, so I corrected this mistake quickly. No need to be seen masturbating in a conference hotel.
On my screen the action now got more intense. "Why are you still dressed?" My wife asked. I laughed out, because the short top and the extremely short skirt that was already hanging on Becky's hips could barely be counted as dressed, as she didn't even wear any underwear. "Get these skimpy clothes of your body" was the next command. To reinforce this statement two whiplashes onto each boob were added. Becky quickly got up, robbing me of the view between her legs and wanted to pull her top over her head, her back to my wife and the camera. She was interrupted by a whiplash onto her ass, as the skirt still was hanging on her hips. This time my wife seemingly had put more force into it, as for a short time you could see the impact on Becky's chocolate skin. "No need to hide. Make it a show for me and the camera". Becky obeyed. She turned around and started pulling up her top above her DD tits, covering them with her hands, playing a little bit by pushing them left right and up and down before performing a boob drop and finally pushing her top over her head. She let it turn around one of her fingers before throwing it on the general direction of my wife. While her boobs are a lot smaller than my wife's G-Cups, due to her taller but skinnier stature and chocolate color, those were my second favorite boobs. Her areolas were forward facing and she had quite a gap in between them. And they looked incredibly sexy in the current lighting, bouncing with every of Becky's movements. My wife nodded approvingly. Afterwards Becky started pulling down her skirt while moving laszivly. Her boobs and her hips moving while she slowly hid her pussy before revealing it again. She got down on her knees, spreading her legs for my wife and me before she got out of the skirt, pushed it aside and got up again. Unfortunately for her, the vibrator fell out of her pussy during this movement. A second later she got another whiplash on her pussy. "Did I tell you to loose the vibrator?" My wife said in a harsh voice. "No Madam." Becky said, lowering her head. "Well, then pick it up and put it where it belongs again. Becky started bending her knees and lowering her back, when she was once again interrupted by a whiplash targeted at her right tit. "Not like that. Turn around and bend over, we want to see your ass." I think I caught a short grin on Becky's face. She definitely did not mind what my wife did to her. She turned around, spread her legs so I would be able to see her face and upper body between them, bent over, wiggled with her ass, which of course also caused her tits to wiggle in front of her face. This of course also revealed the vibrator in her butt. Just when Becky had her fingers on the vibrator on the floor I could hear her moan and saw her legs shaking. My wife now stood besides her, facing the camera holding the remote in the hand that did not hold the whip. With shaking hands from arousal Becky tried to take up the vibrator again, and just when her fingers were there, my wife increased the intensity with the remote again, leading to Becky losing control and collapsing on the floor. As soon as her body hit the floor another whiplash hit her ass. "Am I talking incomprehensibly? You are not to come without my permission and you are asked to get this vibrator into your worthless pussy while showing your fucking ass. What is so hard about that?" While talking, my wife added additional whiplashes onto her ass with a couple of them also hitting the pussy area. "I'm sick of this, now get your worthless body onto the bed and open your legs to the camera". "Yes Madam" was the only answer from Becky. When she got up I glimpsed a look in her face and saw it was pure lust, despite the pain.
Up until now I had started playing with myself. The view and sound on my tablet were just to arousing. I realized, that I was already close to cumming, but there would be more action for me to watch. Nevertheless I couldn't stop, and a few quick strokes and I came in 3 high squirts over my upper body. In the meanwhile the action on the screen continued.
As ordered, Becky lay down as she had been before only now her tits were also clearly visible on camera. My wife bent down herself, making sure I got a good show and picked up the vibrator Becky had failed to pick up twice. She shoved it into Becky's pussy again, before she used the remote again to set both vibrators in Becky's ass an pussy to their lowest setting again. Becky's pelvis moved, as the overstimulation was to much again. My wife once again addressed her: "This should be about me, not you! Time you put your body to some use. Now get me out of my skirt." She ordered, standing next to the bed, with her ass to the camera. Becky sat up, her open pussy still facing the camera and giving me a prime look at her tits. She undid my wife's belt and started pulling down the skirt. My wife supported this with very erotic moves and just a few seconds later I had the perfect view onto the greatest ass in the galaxy. The right roundness, perfect size, perfect shape and feel and just overall perfect for me. My wife pushed Becky back onto the bed, while at the same time bending over, revealing the buttplug and vibrator she had in herself. This movement was also to much for her corsage and her tits fell out. "Make yourself useful and suck on my tits!" was her next command, to which Becky promptly obeyed while my wife made quite a show out of removing the vibrator from her pussy. She spread her legs, shaking that great ass and slowly pulled out the vibrator millimeter by millimeter and pushing it in 5 millimeters in again for every 10 millimeters she had pulled it out. When she was done, she climbed onto the bed sat up and pushed Becky's upper body down. She then climbed over Becky's face and began riding on her face. Becky understood what to do and gave her best to luck my wife's pussy. My wife's boobs jumped around on her chest, which made her abandon her whip and she started massaging and playing with them, while leaning slightly backwards. This gave me a great view and made me hard again in an instant. Also due to my wife's movements on the bed, Becky's tits started to wiggle, but she needed her hands to ensure my wife's thighs had sufficient space in between for her not to suffocate. This got more and more difficult, as my wife quickly approached her orgasm. It took her less than 2 minutes before she collapsed forward, her face more or less falling onto Becky's pussy. My wife catched her breath for half a minute or so, before she pulled herself up again, grabbed her whip and climbed down from Becky. Becky's face was covered in my wife's fluids, it almost looked like my wife had squirted onto Becky's face. Becky also sat up and catched her breath.
My wife held up Becky's face by placing her whip below her chin. "Good girl, seems like you are good for something. I think you have earned some reward." She said and gave Becky two gentle whiplashes onto her nipples, which made Becky moan again. My wife bent down beside the bed, showing me her great ass with the buttplug again and opened our toy drawer. She grabbed a blindfold and tossed it to Becky. "Put that on, and get on your knees, face to the camera." Becky went on her knees and elbows, what resulted in a harsh whiplash on her ass. "On your hands, not your elbows" and as Becky took to long for her liking, a second whiplash followed. Now Becky obeyed and stayed more upright. Next my wife went, and repositioned the camera, so now the camera was low enough to look between Becky's legs. Next, my wife pulls out a dual vibrator we had bought recently. She inserted the short part as advertised into her vagina and went behind Becky. She then removed the vibrators from Becky's pussy and ass and slowly started to insert the long part of the double vibrator into Becky's pussy. I was able to see Becky's surprised look through the blindfold, as my wife's pelvis touched Becky's ass and she realized, what was happening. The next surprise came, when my wife activated the vibrations and started fucking her Doggystyle. I was almost in heaven. Seeing a pair of DD tits bouncing in the big picture, and my wife's G-Cups also bouncing in the background while my wife grabbed Becky by the hips and gave her a pounding was an absolutely fantastic view. This went on for about 10 minutes, with me wanking of in my hotel bed, my wife pounding the dogsitter Doggystyle and the dogsitter moaning loudly. It seemed, the double vibrator had some kind of burst mode, as both women increased and decreased their volume in regular intervals. After 10 minutes the two women collapsed over each other from their orgasm and I also came again.
After everyone had catched their breath again, my wife told Becky she could go home now, she would still make the last train even with some time to wash herself. After Becky was gone, my wife and myself had video call under our showers. After that we said goodnight. My wife told me, to have fun on the conference reception the next day, but to not forget my camera...

She got up in the dark, with only the dim ambience of soft blue lighting to accompany her. She stretched all four arms, her two legs, and rolled her neck. It struck her as mildly interesting in that moment, how something so small could connect them to humans, The thought was fleeting as she took another step forward to kneel down on the floor. There, in a little alcove in the wall, she had set a volcanic rock from Anin, dried moss, and other paraphernalia from her home world. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath resting her hands together.
Praise and respect to the spirits of Anin. Praise the fathers and mothers of war gone to their rest below the moss and the earth. Praise their spirits that watch from the sky and peer through the ether down upon us.
She continued the slow mantra in the style of Prayer learned from Naktan and pulled her concentration to her core, ignoring anything and everything around her. A deep state of meditation overtook her. She would never have done this if she thought there were any chance that she was in danger, but below she knew Earth glowed like a sphere before their orbiting ship. There was no worry of invasion.
She thought she heard something at one point, but chose to ignore it as she continued her mantra.
Eventually, and after an unknown amount of minutes, she stood and turned slowly to find-
She stopped, and crossed her arms over her chest.
"What are you doing?”
Adam burrowed his way further down into her blankets, nuzzling his head up against her pillow,
"So warm, and comfy!"
She tried not to smile,
"You dumbass."
He pulled the blankets tighter around himself,
"You know, I did come here to talk to you, but now I actually am really comfortable, so come back in two hours."
"I- This is MY home!"
He closed his eyes and pretended to snore loudly.
She rolled her eyes as she watched him theatrically pretend to sleep. She looked around mildly for a moment, before picking up another pillow and glancing at the door. She casually walked over, dropped the pillow on his head and then held it down as if she intended to smother him.
”Die human scum!”
That got him up and moving.
Before long the two of them were grappling for the upper hand, him trying to put her in a choke hold, and her using her lower arms to pinch him.
He yelped,
"Ouch! Pinching is illegal!”
"Sissy."
He clamped his legs around her lower arms, pinning them in place.
She struggled for a minute and then went limp.
She could feel his smug smile,
"I win, I beat the saint of Anin. Everyone bow at my feet."
"You say that, but if this were a real fight, since you’re a human male, you're the one with a self-destruct button."
"Self-destruct button...?"
"Meaning if this were a real fight, I would have punched you in the balls."
"Yaoooutch… Oh god… Please don't."
Finally, he let her go, leaving the two of them to lay on her bed, sheets scattered on the floor around them, and her pillows in disarray. Adam put his hands behind his head and sighed.
She glanced over at him,
"I don't suppose you came to just hang out. Here on Admiral-ly business?"
He groaned, pulling one of her pillows over his face,
"Please smother me for real this time."
She leaned up on one of her elbows,
"Why?"
"I don't wanna be an adult anymore!"
She tilted her head to the side, watching in amusement as he attempted to throw a childlike tantrum, but only really had the energy to kick his feet once,
"It's boring and lame and they won’t let me wear heelies to important meetings... also children don't have to pay taxes."
She laughed, pulling the pillow from his face,
"Adam you are many things, but 'adult' is not one of them."
He grinned slightly,
"True enough."
He sighed again and rested his head back against the pillows,
"I just want to get back to what we are supposed to be doing, exploring the universe and making cool alien friends."
He threw up his hands in frustration,
"But suddenly I find myself embroiled in stupid annoying politics that I don't understand, being used by people who are, let’s face it, WAY smarter than me, constantly finding myself getting manipulated."
She huffed,
"They aren't smarter than you Adam, they're just manipulative, and you aren't."
He sighed,
"Fair enough."
Then he looked at her, bright green eyes reflecting the soft ambient blue light,
"I just, I miss this, I miss us, I miss hanging out and doing stupid shit, and all of the things I could do when I wasn't so important and this operation was smaller."
She smiled rather sadly reaching one hand over for his, lacing the four of her fingers through the five of his,
"Well someone has to do the hard things, who better than you?”
He glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow,
"Or you, miss saint?”
She rolled her eyes again,
"Can't seem to get you off of that. I'm still the same person I used to be."
"But with power."
She elbowed him gently and he grinned,
"But really, I am proud and impressed and... Let's be honest super super smug that 'I' know you personally."
"I know, I am pretty terrific."
The two of them laughed for a minute before settling down again. He glanced over to her little shrine on the wall,
"What were you doing just then?"
She looked up at the ceiling, following the lines of metal and rivets with her eyes,
"Praying to the spirits of Anin."
Embarrassed, he shifted,
"I didn't know you were... Well I didn't think you were all that religious?"
She shrugged,
"Don't feel bad, it's sort of a new thing. Back before all this, it was sort of just stories to me. Like I believed it because that was what everyone believed, but I didn't really accept it, or feel it the way I do now. After everything with my mother, it was hard to feel connected to something I felt I wasn't a part of... But then after visiting my mother, after becoming a saint for a religion I never really followed... Well, it started to make more sense. It feels real now in a way that it never did."
She turned to look at him, finding him watching her, the UV blue stripes in his skin glowing blue.
"I believe in the spirits of Anin more than I ever have."
He smiled at her and squeezed her hand,
"I'm glad to hear it."
They lapsed into silence for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling before, inevitably he broke it,
"So this makes you like, space Moses right?”
She frowned and turned to look at him,
"What is a “Moses”?"
He grinned,
"A guy from one of the Earth Religions. You know, guy follows god's directions to lead his people away from slavery, climbs a mountain, receives the word of god, comes down to give it to the people, that sort of thing."
Sunny tilted her head slightly to the side,
"Are you religious?"
He paused, frowning,
"I... well I... don't really know. My family has been some flavor of Christian for a long time."
"Christian?"
"Uh yeah, the general idea is that there is one all-powerful deity who created everything. He has rules and laws that you are supposed to follow, the general tenants of this specific religion mostly boil down to: love everyone and don't be a dick, which humans are notoriously bad at. You sin you go to hell, a very bad place after you die, and if you are a good person you go to heaven. Problem is everyone is a sinner and breaks the rules, so really no one was going to get into heaven."
"That sounds bleak..."
"Well, that's where the other stuff comes in. Basically, this all-powerful deity sent down his son in human form to live a perfect life, so when he was martyred he took on the sins of all of humanity and paid for them in the greatest act of mercy to open the gate for the rest of us into heaven."
Sunny shifted as he tilted to the side to lay in the crook of her arms,
"Of course that is just one religion among tons on earth, we aren't really as cohesive in our beliefs as Drev are... As for me... I'm not really sure."
She tilted her head to the side, cheek resting against his hair,
"After seeing space, I become more and more convinced of some... Thing that created everything, but beyond that it's sort of a tossup."
She ran one hand through his hair, coarse but still soft somehow.
"You know my name comes from that religion?”
She turned her head to look at him,
"Oh, really?”
"Adam was the first man."
"What do you mean!?”
Adam shrugged,
"He was supposedly the first man that god created, from the dust of the earth... I think?"
She gave him a sidelong glance,
"Look, and you get to be the first idiot in space."
He snorted and poked her in the ribs.
"There were PLENTY of idiots in space before me, believe you me."
"Mmm I don't know, you are pretty dumb."
He laughed, grabbing a pillow and hitting her with it. She rolled over so she was lying on top of him and then went limp.
He struggled,
"Get your big ass off me."
"Oh no, I have been attacked by a sudden acute case of the “my spine doesn't work anymore”-disease."
"If you don't move, you'll suddenly find yourself with a case of “fist in your face”-disease."
She laughed and rolled off him, making sure the hard parts of her carapace were sticking down for maximum discomfort.
He grunted.
They returned to lying down next to each other in the half darkness. Sunny reached over and turned on some quiet music in the background as the two of them sat and talked, and laughed.
"I can't wait to get back to deep space."
He closed his eyes and hummed softly at the thought,
"Just the crew and the darkness and nothing ahead of us but an endless frontier."
Surprisingly, she found the thought to be more than a little comforting, and closed her eyes thinking about the vast reaches of blackness and the endless spinning galaxies.
"And while we are out, we can drop Conn into a pulsar."
He snorted,
“Why? Well first of for scientific reasons! If a marshmallow causes a nuclear blast, I wonder what dropping Conn would do… but at least he’d be dead.”
"That billowy bastard would survive and you know it."
She huffed,
"Still though, if I have to hear one more smug lecture how he has a child with you, I'm gonna wring his scrawny neck."
He grinned teeth flashing blue in the light,
"Is someone... Jealous?"
Sunny laughed, almost tipping him off the bed and onto the floor with her mirth,
"Yes Adam, I am totally jealous, really I am, ‘kay?. I mean who wouldn't want to have a child with YOU, big dumb, dork. Really the perfect place to put my superior genes."
"Superior genes, says someone who can't reach the top shelf."
She kicked him, foot clanging off his prosthetic,
"I am a foot taller than you."
He placed his hand next to his ear,
"What was that, I can't hear you over how short you are."
Sunny shook her head,
"At least I have binocular vision and both my knees."
"So we are gonna ignore that that binocular vision is due to a prosthetic now after the whole “your mom” incident? And also, veeery important: weird neck nostrils, don't forget about those!"
"Oh yes, so I can’t house them on my face like you and your bigass nose."
"Low blow, low blow."
"There are... Lower things... I could make fun of."
He snorted,
"Can't make fun of it if you've never seen it. You on the other hand, walking around in the nude..."
"You're welcome. Who wouldn't love…"
She gestured to herself,
"This."
"Mmm yeah... chitin, very sexy."
"I am a gift to the universe, and should be appreciated by everyone."
He brushed a hand through his hair,
"Well I find that real gifts are gift wrapped, so jot that down."
"Oh yeah, like a prank gift when you put something lame in a box for something cool."
He frowned at her,
"You wound me. My feelings are so very very hurt. I might even cry."
"I drink human tears."
"That… that's really gross.'
She laughed and then they lapsed into silence. She could hear him breathing quietly next to her in the darkness, his chest rising and falling under the ambient blue light. She looked across the room to where her saint armor was hanging in its climate-controlled case illuminated to a pearly sheen.
"Adam?"
"Yeah?”
"You know I'm just kidding about calling you dumb right?"
"Yeah I know."
"I'm proud of what you've been doing."
Adam turned to look at her rather incredulous,
"Me, of what? I haven't been doing shit."
"So, we are just going to ignore you overthrowing a maniacal politician while simultaneously piloting a 2,000 year old spacecraft?"
"That was more Conn and Eris than it was me."
"It was your idea."
"Let’s not forget Admiral Kelly."
Sunny pulled him closer,
"I am sorry, I will not be accepting anything other than you acknowledging that you did a good job."
"Screw you!”
"You'd like that wouldn't you?”
He sighed,
"You've been talking to Ramirez WAY too much."
She was only slightly smug as she rested her head back against the pillow,
"I really should get up and train..."
"We should yeah..."
Neither of them moved.
"Alternatively, we could just... Lay here... All day and do... nothing."
She looked up at the ceiling for a long moment and pretended to be in deep contemplation before…
"Well it's official, you have convinced me. You and your silver tongue."
"I am a master negotiator."
He shifted position putting one arm behind his head,
"Think about it, by this time tomorrow we will be back to space exploring and doing what we should have been doing all along. I can't wait."
"That makes two of us."
Previous First [Next](link)
Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
Intro post by me
OC-whole collection
Patreon of the author

FYI, this is a story COLLECTION. Lots of standalones technically. So, you can basically start to read at any chapter, no pre-read of the other chapters needed technically (other than maybe getting better descriptions of characters than: Adam Vir=human, Krill=antlike alien, Sunny=tall alien, Conn=telepathic alien). The numbers are (mostly) only for organization of posts and continuity.
OC Written by Charlie Stastarrfallknightrise,
Typed up and then posted here by me.
Proofreading and language check for some chapters by u/Finbar9800 u/BakeGullible9975 u/Didnotseemecomein and u/medium_jock
Future Lore and fact check done by me.
Awwwww! So cute!
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She got up in the dark, with only the dim ambience of soft blue lighting to accompany her. She stretched all four arms, her two legs, and rolled her neck. It struck her as mildly interesting in that moment, how something so small could connect them to humans, The thought was fleeting as she took another step forward to kneel down on the floor. There, in a little alcove in the wall, she had set a volcanic rock from Anin, dried moss, and other paraphernalia from her home world. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath resting her hands together.
Praise and respect to the spirits of Anin. Praise the fathers and mothers of war gone to their rest below the moss and the earth. Praise their spirits that watch from the sky and peer through the ether down upon us.
She continued the slow mantra in the style of Prayer learned from Naktan and pulled her concentration to her core, ignoring anything and everything around her. A deep state of meditation overtook her. She would never have done this if she thought there were any chance that she was in danger, but below she knew Earth glowed like a sphere before their orbiting ship. There was no worry of invasion.
She thought she heard something at one point, but chose to ignore it as she continued her mantra.
Eventually, and after an unknown amount of minutes, she stood and turned slowly to find-
She stopped, and crossed her arms over her chest.
"What are you doing?”
Adam burrowed his way further down into her blankets, nuzzling his head up against her pillow,
"So warm, and comfy!"
She tried not to smile,
"You dumbass."
He pulled the blankets tighter around himself,
"You know, I did come here to talk to you, but now I actually am really comfortable, so come back in two hours."
"I- This is MY home!"
He closed his eyes and pretended to snore loudly.
She rolled her eyes as she watched him theatrically pretend to sleep. She looked around mildly for a moment, before picking up another pillow and glancing at the door. She casually walked over, dropped the pillow on his head and then held it down as if she intended to smother him.
”Die human scum!”
That got him up and moving.
Before long the two of them were grappling for the upper hand, him trying to put her in a choke hold, and her using her lower arms to pinch him.
He yelped,
"Ouch! Pinching is illegal!”
"Sissy."
He clamped his legs around her lower arms, pinning them in place.
She struggled for a minute and then went limp.
She could feel his smug smile,
"I win, I beat the saint of Anin. Everyone bow at my feet."
"You say that, but if this were a real fight, since you’re a human male, you're the one with a self-destruct button."
"Self-destruct button...?"
"Meaning if this were a real fight, I would have punched you in the balls."
"Yaoooutch… Oh god… Please don't."
Finally, he let her go, leaving the two of them to lay on her bed, sheets scattered on the floor around them, and her pillows in disarray. Adam put his hands behind his head and sighed.
She glanced over at him,
"I don't suppose you came to just hang out. Here on Admiral-ly business?"
He groaned, pulling one of her pillows over his face,
"Please smother me for real this time."
She leaned up on one of her elbows,
"Why?"
"I don't wanna be an adult anymore!"
She tilted her head to the side, watching in amusement as he attempted to throw a childlike tantrum, but only really had the energy to kick his feet once,
"It's boring and lame and they won’t let me wear heelies to important meetings... also children don't have to pay taxes."
She laughed, pulling the pillow from his face,
"Adam you are many things, but 'adult' is not one of them."
He grinned slightly,
"True enough."
He sighed again and rested his head back against the pillows,
"I just want to get back to what we are supposed to be doing, exploring the universe and making cool alien friends."
He threw up his hands in frustration,
"But suddenly I find myself embroiled in stupid annoying politics that I don't understand, being used by people who are, let’s face it, WAY smarter than me, constantly finding myself getting manipulated."
She huffed,
"They aren't smarter than you Adam, they're just manipulative, and you aren't."
He sighed,
"Fair enough."
Then he looked at her, bright green eyes reflecting the soft ambient blue light,
"I just, I miss this, I miss us, I miss hanging out and doing stupid shit, and all of the things I could do when I wasn't so important and this operation was smaller."
She smiled rather sadly reaching one hand over for his, lacing the four of her fingers through the five of his,
"Well someone has to do the hard things, who better than you?”
He glanced over at her, raising an eyebrow,
"Or you, miss saint?”
She rolled her eyes again,
"Can't seem to get you off of that. I'm still the same person I used to be."
"But with power."
She elbowed him gently and he grinned,
"But really, I am proud and impressed and... Let's be honest super super smug that 'I' know you personally."
"I know, I am pretty terrific."
The two of them laughed for a minute before settling down again. He glanced over to her little shrine on the wall,
"What were you doing just then?"
She looked up at the ceiling, following the lines of metal and rivets with her eyes,
"Praying to the spirits of Anin."
Embarrassed, he shifted,
"I didn't know you were... Well I didn't think you were all that religious?"
She shrugged,
"Don't feel bad, it's sort of a new thing. Back before all this, it was sort of just stories to me. Like I believed it because that was what everyone believed, but I didn't really accept it, or feel it the way I do now. After everything with my mother, it was hard to feel connected to something I felt I wasn't a part of... But then after visiting my mother, after becoming a saint for a religion I never really followed... Well, it started to make more sense. It feels real now in a way that it never did."
She turned to look at him, finding him watching her, the UV blue stripes in his skin glowing blue.
"I believe in the spirits of Anin more than I ever have."
He smiled at her and squeezed her hand,
"I'm glad to hear it."
They lapsed into silence for a long moment, staring up at the ceiling before, inevitably he broke it,
"So this makes you like, space Moses right?”
She frowned and turned to look at him,
"What is a “Moses”?"
He grinned,
"A guy from one of the Earth Religions. You know, guy follows god's directions to lead his people away from slavery, climbs a mountain, receives the word of god, comes down to give it to the people, that sort of thing."
Sunny tilted her head slightly to the side,
"Are you religious?"
He paused, frowning,
"I... well I... don't really know. My family has been some flavor of Christian for a long time."
"Christian?"
"Uh yeah, the general idea is that there is one all-powerful deity who created everything. He has rules and laws that you are supposed to follow, the general tenants of this specific religion mostly boil down to: love everyone and don't be a dick, which humans are notoriously bad at. You sin you go to hell, a very bad place after you die, and if you are a good person you go to heaven. Problem is everyone is a sinner and breaks the rules, so really no one was going to get into heaven."
"That sounds bleak..."
"Well, that's where the other stuff comes in. Basically, this all-powerful deity sent down his son in human form to live a perfect life, so when he was martyred he took on the sins of all of humanity and paid for them in the greatest act of mercy to open the gate for the rest of us into heaven."
Sunny shifted as he tilted to the side to lay in the crook of her arms,
"Of course that is just one religion among tons on earth, we aren't really as cohesive in our beliefs as Drev are... As for me... I'm not really sure."
She tilted her head to the side, cheek resting against his hair,
"After seeing space, I become more and more convinced of some... Thing that created everything, but beyond that it's sort of a tossup."
She ran one hand through his hair, coarse but still soft somehow.
"You know my name comes from that religion?”
She turned her head to look at him,
"Oh, really?”
"Adam was the first man."
"What do you mean!?”
Adam shrugged,
"He was supposedly the first man that god created, from the dust of the earth... I think?"
She gave him a sidelong glance,
"Look, and you get to be the first idiot in space."
He snorted and poked her in the ribs.
"There were PLENTY of idiots in space before me, believe you me."
"Mmm I don't know, you are pretty dumb."
He laughed, grabbing a pillow and hitting her with it. She rolled over so she was lying on top of him and then went limp.
He struggled,
"Get your big ass off me."
"Oh no, I have been attacked by a sudden acute case of the “my spine doesn't work anymore”-disease."
"If you don't move, you'll suddenly find yourself with a case of “fist in your face”-disease."
She laughed and rolled off him, making sure the hard parts of her carapace were sticking down for maximum discomfort.
He grunted.
They returned to lying down next to each other in the half darkness. Sunny reached over and turned on some quiet music in the background as the two of them sat and talked, and laughed.
"I can't wait to get back to deep space."
He closed his eyes and hummed softly at the thought,
"Just the crew and the darkness and nothing ahead of us but an endless frontier."
Surprisingly, she found the thought to be more than a little comforting, and closed her eyes thinking about the vast reaches of blackness and the endless spinning galaxies.
"And while we are out, we can drop Conn into a pulsar."
He snorted,
“Why? Well first of for scientific reasons! If a marshmallow causes a nuclear blast, I wonder what dropping Conn would do… but at least he’d be dead.”
"That billowy bastard would survive and you know it."
She huffed,
"Still though, if I have to hear one more smug lecture how he has a child with you, I'm gonna wring his scrawny neck."
He grinned teeth flashing blue in the light,
"Is someone... Jealous?"
Sunny laughed, almost tipping him off the bed and onto the floor with her mirth,
"Yes Adam, I am totally jealous, really I am, ‘kay?. I mean who wouldn't want to have a child with YOU, big dumb, dork. Really the perfect place to put my superior genes."
"Superior genes, says someone who can't reach the top shelf."
She kicked him, foot clanging off his prosthetic,
"I am a foot taller than you."
He placed his hand next to his ear,
"What was that, I can't hear you over how short you are."
Sunny shook her head,
"At least I have binocular vision and both my knees."
"So we are gonna ignore that that binocular vision is due to a prosthetic now after the whole “your mom” incident? And also, veeery important: weird neck nostrils, don't forget about those!"
"Oh yes, so I can’t house them on my face like you and your bigass nose."
"Low blow, low blow."
"There are... Lower things... I could make fun of."
He snorted,
"Can't make fun of it if you've never seen it. You on the other hand, walking around in the nude..."
"You're welcome. Who wouldn't love…"
She gestured to herself,
"This."
"Mmm yeah... chitin, very sexy."
"I am a gift to the universe, and should be appreciated by everyone."
He brushed a hand through his hair,
"Well I find that real gifts are gift wrapped, so jot that down."
"Oh yeah, like a prank gift when you put something lame in a box for something cool."
He frowned at her,
"You wound me. My feelings are so very very hurt. I might even cry."
"I drink human tears."
"That… that's really gross.'
She laughed and then they lapsed into silence. She could hear him breathing quietly next to her in the darkness, his chest rising and falling under the ambient blue light. She looked across the room to where her saint armor was hanging in its climate-controlled case illuminated to a pearly sheen.
"Adam?"
"Yeah?”
"You know I'm just kidding about calling you dumb right?"
"Yeah I know."
"I'm proud of what you've been doing."
Adam turned to look at her rather incredulous,
"Me, of what? I haven't been doing shit."
"So, we are just going to ignore you overthrowing a maniacal politician while simultaneously piloting a 2,000 year old spacecraft?"
"That was more Conn and Eris than it was me."
"It was your idea."
"Let’s not forget Admiral Kelly."
Sunny pulled him closer,
"I am sorry, I will not be accepting anything other than you acknowledging that you did a good job."
"Screw you!”
"You'd like that wouldn't you?”
He sighed,
"You've been talking to Ramirez WAY too much."
She was only slightly smug as she rested her head back against the pillow,
"I really should get up and train..."
"We should yeah..."
Neither of them moved.
"Alternatively, we could just... Lay here... All day and do... nothing."
She looked up at the ceiling for a long moment and pretended to be in deep contemplation before…
"Well it's official, you have convinced me. You and your silver tongue."
"I am a master negotiator."
He shifted position putting one arm behind his head,
"Think about it, by this time tomorrow we will be back to space exploring and doing what we should have been doing all along. I can't wait."
"That makes two of us."
Previous First [Next](link)
Want to find a specific one, see the whole list or check fanart?
Here is the link to the master-post.
Intro post by me
OC-whole collection
Patreon of the author
Thanks for reading! As you saw in the title, this is a cross posted story written by starrfallknightrise and I'll just upload some of it here for you guys, if you are interested and want to read ahead, the original story-collection can be found on tumblr or wattpad to read for free. (link above this text under "OC:..." ) It is the Empyrean Iris story collection by starfallknightrise. Also, if you want to know more about the story collection i made an intro post about it, so feel free to check that out to see what other great characters to look forward to! (Link also above this text). I have no affiliations to the author; just thought I’d share some of the great stories you might enjoy a lot!
Obviously, I have Charlie’s permission to post this and for the people already knowing the stories, or starting to read them: If you follow the link and check out the story you will see some differences. I made some small (non-artistic) changes, mainly correcting writing mistakes, pronoun correction and some small additional info here and there of things which were not thought of/forgotten or even were added/changed in later stories (like the “USS->UNSC” prefix of Stabby, Chalar=/->Sunny etc). As well as some "biggemajor" changes in descriptions and info’s for the same stringency/continuity reason. That can be explained by the story collection being, well a story collection at the start with many standalone-stories just starring the same people, but later on it gets more to a stringent storyline with backstories and throwbacks. (For example Adam Vir has some HEAVY scars over his body, following his bones, which were not really talked about up till half the collection, where it says it covers his whole body and you find out via backflash that he had them the whole time and how he got them, they just weren't mentioned before. However, I would think a doctor would at least see these scars before that, especially since he gets analyzed, treated and goes shirtless/in T-shirts in some stories). So TLDR: Writing and some descriptions are slightly changed, with full OK from the author, since he himself did not bother to correct these things before.

**Fujimaru Ritsuka, the Last Master of Humanity, Enemy of the Crypters, Ammo of the Black Barrel, Feller of Goetia... is batshit insane.
Let me explain.
...

Lack of Basic Understanding of Causality

Fujimaru's bizzare tendencies show up from the very beginning of FGO. According to the game, he joins Chaldea after seeing a poster and deciding to take the job on a whim.
However, Chaldea is in Antartica. The implication is thus that Fujimaru abandoned his family, abandoned his life, abandoned everything he'd ever known and loved, to go to Antartica for a job that he had no idea what was, with zero guarantee of getting the job, with no certainty of a return trip-
On a whim.
Immediately after this, while getting lectured by his potential boss, being told everything he needs to know to pass the entry test, he decides now would be a perfect time to take a nap. Understandably, his boss is miffed by the new intern with zero experience taking a nap right in front of her while she's explaining the most important part of their job, and she decides to fire him.
Fujimaru reacts to this with... nothing. He's a little concerned and stressed per his dialogues, but you'd think he'd be significantly more horrified about needing to walk back home through the Antarticas or join an oil mine at the bottom of Chaldea. Instead, he just... chills with the doctor?
When he finds out Chaldea is on fire and even all the skilled, significantly better Masters than him are dead, his reaction isn't terror or fear. Instead, he remembers a girl he talked to ONCE, and immediately rushes over to the literal origin site of the fire to check if she's alright. Then he sees that she's buried under a building. As a regular guy, he has no prospects of saving her. And the longer he stays, the lower his chances of survival get. His response?
Ignore everything to hold her hand and stay there till no hope of getting out remains.
Presumably CHALDEAS itself is impressed by what is either the tremendous love of Ciel-lookalikes or the complete lack of basic understanding of consequence in this man, and it sends him to Fuyuki presumably in hopes to unite him with fellow madman Shirou so that their collective insanity can open a path to the Root or something.
...

What's Self-Preservation? Can I eat it?

Fujimaru is teleported to a hotter fire surrounded by skeleton upon skeleton. Fortunately, the girl he held hands with turned into super servant Galahad. She can protect hi-
Ritsuka why the hell are you throwing yourself into danger when you have a LITERAL SHIELD at your side?
No Fujimaru do not sacrifice yourself trying to protect someone WHO LITERALLY WEARS ARMOUR AND HAS A SHIELD!
Fujimaru taking a page from the book of Shirou Emiya has a violent martyr complex and nearly dies dooming all humanity in the first twenty minutes of the game. Very fortunately, Cu Chulainn notices this and not wanting to be outdone by someone else dying before him, saves the day.
Ritsuka later proceeds to instantly grasp the concept of Shadow Summoning and turn it into his technique which further raises the question of if brain damage in the Nasuverse just lends you power somehow when we consider the strongest techniques in the series:

• Unlimited Bladeworks (manifested by swordtism)
• Tsubame Guashi (manifested by fightingtism)
• Strong Punch (manifested by Soujuuro)

Ritsuka then acts normal for some time till we reach the end of Singularity-F. He finds out about the END OF HUMANITY.
He is somehow barely fazed by this and determines to save it all himself. This random chump with no mage skills, no Master experience, nothing at all, is entirely confident. This is presumably the true reason why Servants keep being summoned - not by Mash's roundtable shield - but because Fujimaru's balls are just so big they've developed their own gravitational fields and draw in Servants from the Throne like a blackhole.
...

Psychopathy in the Singularities

Fujimaru Ritsuka, Humanity's Last Asylum Escape, then goes to Orleans, sees several thousand dragons, ignores the terror of that sight, murders a fanfiction OC, murders his way through Septem without going insane in the process despite interacting with Nero, and finally we reach the madness that is Fujimaru in Okeanos.
Fujimaru in Okeanos:

• Volunteers to race against HERACLES
  
• He WINS this race against HERACLES
  
• He, a completely inexperienced magus, fights a woman WHO HAS SINGLE-HANDEDLY KILLED POSEIDON AND IS BEING POWERED BY A HOLY GRAIL and wins?????
  
• Fujimaru also wouldn't have full understanding of Shadow Summoning at this point, so the implication is that Fujimaru just half-assed it and then made up the difference by fistfighting her? What sort of gym is this kid going to?
  

We continue on to London. Fujimaru sees a Goddess, the human equivalent of a God, a fragment of Amaterasu, one of the Heavenly Kings, all back to back and is completely uninterested.
He trusts Mordred, literally known as the Knight of Treachery and Jekyll whose best known myth is him pretending to be another person to get out of the consequences of his desire to be evil and betray all his friends.
From this we conclude Fujimaru Ritsuka has no understanding of basic human minds and operates on some greater level of humanity known only to him and Soujuuro.

Train him wrong as a joke? Wait, we were supposed to train him?

Fujimaru walks across the entirety of America on foot in less than a month. In Lord of the Rings, this took over a year. Now, this wouldn't be surprising for a mage. They can boost their physical capabilities so-
What do you mean Fujimaru doesn't know how to enhance his body?
Yeah, as it turns out, contrary to a number of doujins and... basic expectations, not a single person taught Fujimaru Ritsuka, Last Master of Humanity, the guy on whom the entire world depends, basic f***ing magecraft. You know, Da Vinci, maybe some things are more important than making fun of Romani for liking Vtubers? Maybe you could have taught the kid literally the most important fundamental to keeping up with Servants?
This is shown in Lostbelt 1 where Kadoc is surprised that Fujimaru can't enhance his eyes before Fujimaru reveals that he doesn't know anything about enhancement at all, which is... C'mon, Paracelsus, Avicebron, Circe, Medea, they're all literally part of the team. Did not one of them consider "huh, I wonder if I should teach the Last Master of Humanity, the guy on whom ALL HUMANITY DEPENDS, magecraft?"
Shirou was trained wrong. Ritsuka? Somehow Chaldean staff are even more negligent than Kiritsugu. He wasn't trained at all!
...

Fujimaru tells God to eat Shit

Fujimaru goes to Camelot. He's almost normal for most of it besides a tad too deep sense of social justice shared by Mash.
Then he confronts the Lion King. The Lion King who could smite him with a single thought. The Lion King who wields the Pillar of the World. He looks at her, this terrifying force of nature, an actual divinity, God to mortal.
...And he tells her she's a dumbass.
"Humans aren't butterflies you can put on a board!" says Fujimaru Ritsuka, having for unknown reason decided to try to refute a GOD. And flabbergastingly, this works as Lion King takes brain damage presumably from the sheer bafflement that a child with no special abilities is talking down to her, causing her to go berserk and lose when Bedivere activates his Bitch-Slap Airgetlam.
...
Then he goes to Ancient Uruk/Babylonia/I still have no clue where this is. He meets Gilgamesh, King of Heroes, several tiers beyond what Fujimaru will ever be.
"I'm going to skip the line to talk shit to you and ask you to join me," decides Ritsuka. Gilgamesh, unimpressed tries to make him do housework. Fujimaru reveals that in addition to being Humanity's Last Master, he's Humanity's Last Housewife and perfectly does everything till Gil is forced to respect his impressive janitorial skills and they go off to Literal Hell together.
Fujimaru's insanity then makes him befriend several people he shouldn't including:

• God known for betraying everyone she knew (Ishtar)
• God trying to kill them (Gorgon Lily )
  
• Other God trying to kill them (Jaguar)
  
• the Grim Reaper (King Hassan)
  
• The Grim Reaper if it was an anime Waifu (Ereshkigal)
  
• Merlin, who if you've studied Arthurian mythos, you know is the LITERAL ANTICHRIST.
  

Somehow, he gets all of these to work together including mortal enemies Gilgamesh and Ishtar, and inspires King Hassan to give up his Grand title to become a different Grand- a Grandfather.
Fujimaru Ritsuka fights with Lucha Wrestler God trying to kill him by attempting to... suicide tackle her by being air dropped for some reason instead of just breaking the damn magic stone powering her because Fujimaru has offscreen developed telepathy and knows exactly what Lucha Goddess wants.
Having befriended a fourth god trying to kill them, they go to befriend Mom by beating her to death. The gang cheers as they succeed and Waifu Grim Reaper is outed as a tsundere.
...

Coughing Baby vs Omnipotent King of Seventy Two Demon Gods (the baby wins)

Fujimaru goes to outer space. He meets unsurmountable odds. Seventy-two immortal Demon Gods. His reaction?
"Nah, I'd Summon."
Fujimaru transforms the game into a Kingdom Hearts story as the bonds he formed along the way act as a catalyst to summon EVERY SINGLE SERVANT IN THE THRONE to fight for his ass. Goetia screams like a baby as Fujimaru performs the ultimate JJK beatdown by calling in every damn person to ever do anything of note to kick Goetia in the balls through the sheer overwhelming power of friendship.
Goetia reveals himself to be a fraud and pulls "with this treasure I summon Ars Almadel Salmonis: The Time of Birth Has Come, He Is the One Who Masters All!"
Fujimaru calls in additional support from Archetype Eggplants to block an attack that destroyed seven humanities. Following this, he calls in Goetia's dad to put his omnipotence on timeout.
Then, Fujimaru Ritsuka, this untrained regular human with zero enhancement skills, solos Goetia with a Shield he's never used, beating him in a straight boxing match.
Combined with the Francis Drake thing, it makes me wonder if he's secretly the FGO version of Soujuuro.

Conclusion

You liars told me he was a regular ordinary human and the most boring Type-Moon protagonist with no mental problems like the rest.
What the hell did you mean? I have never met a man more on the spectrum, insane, off the walls, unhinged, bonkers and genuinely weird than this guy.
How did I let myself be fooled? He's a Type Moon protagonist! It should have been obvious from the get go!

Fujimaru Ritsuka is Completely Insane.

FIN.

Hi everyone! This chapter will read a bit quicker due to all of the dialog. As always, comments and upvotes let me know you're still interested in the story.
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Once everyone was aboard the USS Dwight D. Eisenhower, Mira seemed to relax a little. Davis and Thompson were chatting away with Vebi and Fennis. Povin still stayed near Mira when the officers were chatting with each other. She felt a little lost now that her services as translator was no longer needed. The winds were much stronger here, and one of Povin’s wings got caught in the wind, causing him to lift up. He reflexively opened his other wing.
“Povin! Remember! Glide! Do not flap!” Mira yelled at him.
“What was that Chief?” Thompson asked.
“I’m sorry sir. Ensign Povin’s wing got caught on a draft. They come from a lower gravity world so if he tries to fly, our gravity will break most of his wing bones and tear through his wing skin. The atmospheric belts they wear can maintain their own atmospheric conditions, but it can’t keep up if they full on fly.”
After riding the currents and getting used to how it felt under his wings, Povin was eventually able to land. He quickly wrapped his wings about himself tightly to avoid doing that again. The rest of the remaining Drala quickly tightened their own wings about their bodies.
“I see. Let’s get everyone inside.” Admiral Davis replied. “Chief Rodreguez, your Captain Martinelli sent over your uniforms.” He called over a sailor who had a duffle bag which was handed over to Mira.
Mira looked a little closer at one of the Destroyer escorts. “Sir, is that the USS Bainbridge I see?”
“Yes, it is. You think your Captain would allow us to come get you and not be a part of the escort? Once we stopped receiving responses, he has called in almost daily to NASA to get answers. Honestly, I was willing to bet that if we denied his ‘request’ to join the escort, he would have gone rogue to be here.”
“I’m not so sure about that. Captain Martinelli wouldn’t break protocols like that. He might have been hailing like crazy until someone gave him answers, but never would he go rogue.” Mira replied.
As she finished saying that a sailor came up the Admiral, “Sir, Captain Martinelli of the USS Bainbridge is on the horn for you.”
“You were saying, Chief?” Davis chuckled. “Maybe you should go take that call. We’ll be in the Ready Room. Come see us there after you have spoken with your captain and made yourself Navy presentable.”
“Yes, sir!” She saluted, received the return salute, and headed to the comms room. In the comms room, she was directed to the receiver. “This is Chief Mira Rodriguez speaking.”
“Chief. It’s good to hear your voice again. Do you have any idea how many calls I received from my nephew? I don’t know how he was able to get people to patch him through so frequently while on duty himself, but he’s very resourceful. I have to admit that. Did those aliens treat you well? And who took down communications like that?”
“Yes, sir. I was treated extremely well. I haven’t had a chance to be debriefed yet, so I don’t know how much I’m allowed to say over comms.”
“I understand. You should be able to say at least if the comms were interrupted by the aliens.”
“Not by the aliens I was with, sir.”
“I understand. Go do what you have to do, Chief. I hope to see you back on the Bainbridge soon.”
“I hope so too, sir.” She replied. The call ended and a sailor took her to where she could change her clothes as well as where the Ready Room was located. Once she was in her khaki-colored Shipboard Working Uniform, she headed to the Ready Room and then waited to be told she could sit. The Flx’usri each had their specialty chairs, and the Drala were able to manage the human chairs.
“Is Captain Martinelli well?” Admiral Davis asked.
“I believe his is calmer now, Sir. However, I suspect he will grill me himself once I am returned to his ship.”
“That sounds about right, Chief. I wouldn’t expect any less of him.”
“Grill? Are you in danger, Chief Mira?” Vebi asked worriedly.
“Grill is slang for question soundly, Rear Admiral. I promise that I will be completely safe with my Captain.” Mira looked around and noticed Commander Morris wasn’t in the room. “Excuse me, Sirs. What happened to Commander Morris? I thought he had survived the assault?”
“I’m sure he’s somewhere on board the ship. When we left to this room, he had been distracted. You know how these ships can be hard to navigate for non-Navy enlistees.” Davis replied.
General Thompson added, “If I had not spent my earlier enlisted time on board Navy vessels, I likely would have also been confused. I always did enjoy the Marine Taxi Service.” He joked. The Admiral gave him a poke with his elbow good naturedly. It was a sign that they had been friends as well as coworkers for a long time.
Admiral Davis explained to the aliens, “The General and I belong to different branches of service. Each branch has a love-hate relationship with all of the other branches. We all have our strengths, and our weaknesses are proudly backed up by the strengths of the other branches. It’s like having siblings. I can tease and make fun of my siblings, but if anyone else does, I will fight them to submission and make them apologize to my sibling.”
“Ah, I understand,” Vebi replied. “I feel the same way about my spawn-mates.”
Fennis cut in, “I understand the diplomate you had intended for us was lost in the conflict. We would prefer if Chief Mira were to be this for us. She has lived with us, and we have forged mutual respect for each other.”
“I believe that can be arranged.” Davis replied after a few moments of thought. “Bureaucracy takes time, and the rest of the Chief’s enlistment will have to be accounted for, but I believe this can be arranged.” He chuckled. “Captain Martinelli will be both happy for you and pissed we’re taking away his highest-ranking Machinist Mate aboard the Bainbridge.”
They began talking and getting to know each other and finally, Vebi asked, “I understand you will need to speak with others to make a real decision, but do you think your people will join the Federation?”
General Thompson beat Admiral Davis to it as he said, “They touched our boats. No one touches the US Navy’s boats and gets away with it.” Davis gave Thompson a small elbow to the ribs showing that the two men were friends outside of their official responsibilities.
Eventually, Commander Morris found the Ready room and General Thompson gestured for him to take a seat. “Now that we’re all here, Chief, how about you give us a full debriefing. Start from leaving Earth.”
“Yes, Sir. The mission started off great. Roger was able to correct course as needed, but the autopilot we were using was very accurate. We were all asleep when it happened. I’m a light sleeper and the pings against the hull woke me up. Looking back, there must have been a harder hit that woke me up first, but at the time, all I heard was the lighter pings. I got up to take a look around and then the alarms went off that we all knew meant to get into our space suits. Once I was in my suit, I realized no one else was in the room with me.
“I grabbed a suit with the intent to help someone into it and then we could go back and help others. They were all dead. The atmosphere in the ship was completely gone and we were no longer noticeably moving. I was staring at either a short and rough death once my air ran out, or if I could fix the life support, I could be looking at a long agonizing death from hunger. I never turned away from a challenge, so I was determined to fix the ship.
I fixed the life support and power at the same time. Now I was only going to face a long agonizing death. It was then that I jettisoned the dead. Hindsight being 20/20, I realize it was the wrong choice. I know that Commander Morris felt I should be able to make a refrigeration room, but if you look at the ship and the schematics, but assuming that I knew I was going to survive and make it back home, that ship did not have rooms that were airtight. They are close, but do not seal all the way. Secondly, I didn’t have the materials to make it so that the air didn’t circulate out of any room I put them in.
“At that time, I fully expected that I was going to die out there. It would take time for any message to get to Earth, time to fabricate a new ship and crew it, and time to get out to me. Time that I didn’t feel I had.”
Davis interrupted. “The seals weren’t airtight?”
“The exterior ones were, but any of the interior doors were not. They used a different kind of seal material, and in some cases, we could see light through a closed door. Even the door that was supposed to be the airlock for if we had to open the exterior door for anything. That one was the best seal, but there were still leaks.”
“Continue.” Davis said.
“I was out fixing the thruster when the crew of Black Hole found me. You haven’t met them, and I don’t think they can even come down here. The federation uses color outlines on their emblem to denote classes of ability to survive on worlds, I guess would be the best way to put it. Black Hole is a Green Class. They have the fewest worlds they can touch down on and survive. It’s based on allergy. If they were to even touch the plants here, they would get hives. The Meteor's crew is a Black Class. They can go to nearly every inhabited world. They might have to be careful of gravity, or if the air quality or temperatures are too extreme for the atmospheric belts to handle. Our world is classified as a Black Class planet.” She then relayed the rest of her journey.
“Do you think we can speak with these other heads of ships?” Thompson asked the aliens.
“Of course.” Fennis replied. To Vebi he said, “If you hail Commander Xuan’rawis, I’ll hail Captain S’sveta.”
After getting their targets on a video call, they both headed over and got their counterparts in view too. “We still have two hours until our nocturnal counterparts awaken. We’ll have about an hour of overlap, and then we will need to rest ourselves.” S’sveta said.
The leaders all spoke with each other, leaving Morris very confused as he did not receive a translator implant. Thompson told Mira she could act as his translator, so she did.
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